


A Hopps, Skip, and a Fox

by J_March



Series: The Wildlands Series [1]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Action, Comedy, Drama, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-30 02:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 92,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13940544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_March/pseuds/J_March
Summary: It's been a year since Judy and Nick became partners at the ZPD, and they still struggle every day to prove themselves. When the head of the Cottontail Corporation comes to them with a case against a family of foxes, Nick and Judy find themselves faced with the question: What is most important? Loyalty to one's city, one's species, or to the partner who means more than anything?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome!
> 
> This story was originally posted on my FanFiction account under the name SweetUnknown, so if you like what you're reading and can't wait for the next update you can binge-read the rest over on that site. I plan to release one chapter a week on here until I get caught up, with some improvements to the story that the FanFiction version won't have, so feel free to read whichever one you'd prefer. This is a trilogy, with part two almost complete and part three in the beginning stages of outlining. I am very excited for what's coming and I hope all of you are too. Questions, comments, and constructive criticism are welcome. Happy reading!

Judy tugged at her tie and struggled not to crack under the pressure of the hundred unimpressed faces watching her. She had long grown used to giving speeches for various places and occasions as part of her job at the ZPD, but this was by far her toughest crowd yet.

"And that is why it is important not to judge a species based on stereotypes. You must, absolutely _must_ , get to know the animals for themselves. Trust them. Let them show you how amazing they can be when given half the chance. Because if you don't, you're not just hurting them, but missing out on some once in a lifetime friendships."

Someone in the back coughed. A turtle near the front yaaaaawwned. Judy tamped down the urge to thump her foot.

_Okay, time for the big guns._

She gestured to the goat standing near the side of the stage. At her cue, he pulled on a cord and the curtain behind her swung aside, revealing a white cart and Finnick, dressed in cargo shorts and a button up shirt—the closest he would come to formal wear.

"So who wants popsicles?" asked Judy, and every face in the room lit up. "Supplied by our sweet neighborhood fox, Finnick!"

Finnick shot her a glare at the term _sweet_ , but obligingly pulled out several bright red popsicles from the cart.

Cheers went up and there was a mad rush to the front. Judy was suddenly glad she had chosen to stand in top of the podium instead of walking around the stage. They might just be kids—which made most of them similar to her in size—but a stampede was still a stampede, and some of them had hooves.

Raising her voice in a futile attempt to be heard about the din, she yelled, "Be careful now! Watch out for Finnick!"

"Single file, students!" trumpeted a teacher, an imposing bull elephant in a sweater-vest. 

Immediately the children hushed and shuffled into a messy line in front of the cart.

"Thank you, Mr. Hathi," said Judy.

"Think nothing of it, Judy."

Judy watched Finnick pass out the icy treats four at a time. Thank goodness she had taken Nick's advice about bringing a bribe. She had chased down criminals who were less intimidating than this lot.

"Judy!" A camel loped over to her. Besides the truly impressive curly pompadour he sported, the rest of his hair had been shaved smooth. He wore an extremely ill-fitting tan suit. Well—Judy chewed her lip—maybe it wasn't fair to pick on his clothes. Everyone knew how hard it was for a camel to find a good tailor. There were just too many awkward angles and humps to work around to make an outfit look flattering.

"Principal Caleb! Hello."

"Just a wonderful presentation, Judy," he complimented her. “Very well done.”

"Thank you, sir. But I think I lost most of them by the end there."

"Nonsense. You did fine. We had Monica BushyTail come and do a program on food hoarding last month. Now _that_ was an absolute disaster. Have you ever tried to get a flying squirrel out of an air vent?” 

“I can’t say that I have, sir.”

Principal Caleb shuddered, his knobby knees knocking together. “Sometimes at night I imagine I can still hear scratching in the ceiling.” 

“Excuse me.”

At the sound of that tiny voice, Judy looked over the side of the podium. A small fox kit peered up at her with big eyes. She clutched a half-eaten popsicle tight in her paws. “Um… Officer Hopps?”

“That’s me.” Judy hopped down next to her. Though the kit couldn’t have been more than ten, they were almost the same height. “What’s your name?”

The fox ducked her head. "Vixie."

"What a beautiful name."

The kit's head bobbed even lower. "Thank you."

_Cute_.

"Did you have a question for me?" asked Judy. "You look like you have a really great question for me."

Vixie fiddled with the stick of her popsicle. “Actually I—that is, I heard you had a partner. A fox partner.”

Judy beamed. “You bet I do."

She pulled out her phone and held it out to the kit, showing off a blurry shot of her wrangling her partner in for a selfie. “See? His name is Nick Wilde, and he’s got a badge and everything. He refuses to wear his hat, though.”

“Is he here?”

"Unfortunately, no. He couldn't make it today."

_Refused to come_ would be more accurate, but Judy wasn't about to tell the kit that. She had tried so hard to convince him too, even going so far as to corner him in the break room.

"The school requested _both_ of us, Nick. They asked for you by name."

Nick, who had been rooting around in the fridge during this little speech, emerged with a glazed doughnut, not doubt stolen from Clawhauser's not-so-secret stash behind the pickles. Her partner had shaken his head. "I don't do kids, Carrots."

"But think of all the _lives_ you could be changing. Kids don't watch the news or read the paper, Nick. Unless their parents talk to them about us, they won't know that foxes and bunnies can be police officers now. Don't you want to open up their eyes?"

"Oh, I would open their eyes, all right. They'd be bug-eyed with fear if I went."

"That's not true!"

Nick had just looked at her, on eyebrow cocked.

"Even if they are… uneasy. You could show them your charming side and win them over."

"Are you encouraging me to con children, Carrots?"

"It's not a con," Judy had huffed. "It's the truth. And what about the young foxes? You could be such an inspiration to them, Nick. Not to mention—" She leaned in closer, "—have you not _seen_ baby animals before? They're absolutely adorable. Don't you want to come see the cuteness with me?"

She had thought she'd have him with that one, but Nick just shook his head. "As much as I appreciate you championing me, Carrots, I've done too many shady things to ever be an appropriate role model for anyone."

"That's not true.”

"And as for cute…” He gave her nose a playful poke. "I already get my full daily dose from you. Any more and I’d be in danger of OD’ing. You don’t want me dead now, do you, Carrots?” And before Judy could tease out the compliment from all the sarcasm—or even huff out a general, “Don’t call me cute,”—he’d already made his escape, stolen doughnut and all.

At Judy’s answer, Vixie's tail drooped. Feeling bad, Judy dug out a card from her pocket and gave it to her. "Here."

The little fox took it, expression brightening. It was Nick's business card. Judy had swiped a couple of them from off his desk, just in case. Beside the contact information was a tiny picture of Nick looking adorably proud of himself.

Vixie trotted off smiling, being very careful not to let her popsicle drip on the card. Judy watched her go, happy and yet disappointed, too. _Not a role model_ , Nick had called himself. If only he had been here to see what he meant to this little fox. She thought it would have done a lot of good. For both of them.

Next time, she swore to herself, she would make him come with her, even if she had to hustle him in order to accomplish it.

* * *

By the time Judy finished at the school and dropped Finnick off at his van, evening was falling. She returned to the ZPD to finish up some last minute paperwork, then headed down the block to Chausie's.

The bar was a favorite of the ZPD, not just because it was the closest one around, but because it catered to animals of all sizes and drinks were half-priced for officers, who drew in large crowds just by virtue of being who they were. Unlike other bars in the city where the fur tended to fly more easily, citizens knew they could spend an evening at Chausie’s without fear of having a fight break out. This drew the more skittish animals to the bar in droves. Deer, bunnies, turtles… anyone undersized or more vulnerable who would normally be too scared to venture out for a drink, they were all safe at Chase’s.

Judy had just settled herself onto a stool and ordered a small carrot cocktail when her partner arrived. He ducked between the striped legs of two tipsy zebras who were exiting the bar, making them yip and stumble out of his way. His expression was notably grumpy.

Judy held up a paw. “Nick! Over here!”

She noticed he had changed out of his uniform and into the spare set of clothes he kept in his locker at work. The shorts were out of season, fall being well under way, and the shirt was beyond wrinkled. He hadn’t even bothered with the top two buttons.

From the end of the bar, officers Francine and McHorn saw him and started snickering. Nick’s expression darkened even further and his lip curled, like he wanted to growl at them. His fur was ruffled and covered in bits of white. Judy squinted. Were those… feathers?

He clambered up onto the stool next to hers. Yep, definitely feathers.

"What happened to you?” asked Judy.

Nick caught the bartender's eye and motioned for a drink. "Someone reported a theft and officers Peanut and Unicorn over there thought it would be hilarious if they sent _me_ over to investigate."

Judy frowned. "Hilarious? But you're so good with robbery cases.”

"It was at a hen's house."

Understanding dawned. “Oh.”

"Yes. Oh." Nick pulled a feather from his fur and scowled at it. "Just the sight of me on her doorstep sent Mrs. Cluckington into hysterics. It took me twenty minutes to convince her I was there to help, and that was only _after_ fending off three of her oversized rooster sons who took exception to me 'threatening' their mother."

He let the feather fall to the floor. Judy bit her lip. "That must have been… just awful."

"They had pectorals bigger than my _head_ , Carrots. And their beaks had definitely been sharpened. That's illegal you know. I could've fined them. Stupid cockfighters."

Judy covered her mouth, but not before a snort escaped.

Nick’s gaze narrowed. "I'm sorry, was that _laughter_ I heard just now? Are you laughing at your partner's pain?"

"I would never."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Cause I could have sworn—"

"I wasn't."

"Your nose is twitching."

Judy slapped a paw over it. "I'm a bunny. It does that."

“Uh-huh.” But his lips quirked and the tension eased out of him a little.

He started plucking the feathers out his fur. Judy hurried to help. "So what was stolen?"

"Some golden antique eggs Mrs. Cluckington inherited from her great-grandmother."

"Sounds like they must have a lot of sentimental value."

"That, and they’re worth a small fortune. Poultry don't joke around when it comes to their nest eggs."

"Any leads?"

The bartender slid over his drink and Nick paused in his de-feathering to take a big gulp. "You could say that."

He pulled a crinkled piece of paper out of his pocket and waved it at her, a smug smile sneaking across his face. "Made the arrest not two hours ago. The case is officially cracked and closed."

"Already?" said Judy, amazed, and in her distraction she accidentally ripped out a feather that had been tangled in Nick's fur. He yelped. “Sorry. So where was it? _Who_ was it?”

"That would be a yes, the neighbor's house, and Gosey Goose, Jr."

"How did you figure it out?"

Nick pocketed the paperwork and tapped a claw against his temple. "Hey, they don't call us foxes sly for nothing."

“That boast would sound more impressive if you weren’t currently molting right now,” said Judy, brushing another feather from his fur.

Nick’s gaze dropped to where her paw touched his arm, and Judy found herself stilling as she looked down too. And maybe it was because they were both focused on that innocent point of contact, but she suddenly felt self-conscious of her actions. She pulled back, holding up the little bit of white fluff between them as if in defense of herself. “I was just—“

"Oh my gosh, you guys!" Clawhauser dashed over to them, waving a frantic paw towards the dance floor. " _Guys_. This is Gazelle's new song! We _have_ to dance."

Judy demurred at the same time Nick said, "I don't think so." But the big cat would not be denied. He snagged the bunny by her sleeve, grabbed the fox by his collar, and lifted them both bodily from their seats.

"Clawhauser!" cried Judy.

Nick could only gurgle.

The dance floor was filled with animals enjoying the music, and even more were crowding in, lured by the sound of Gazelle's voice. The song was lively with a pounding bass Judy could feel through her feet as Clawhauser set her down. Nick coughed and rubbed at his neck, glaring at their spotted coworker. But the cheetah didn't notice; he was too absorbed in the song. He threw himself into the music, prancing around and over the other animals as agile the singer he adored, forgetting all about his unwilling dance partners. Within seconds, the crowd had swallowed him up completely.

Judy looked at Nick and shrugged. They were here now, might as well enjoy a song or two. She started hopping along to the beat. Nick rolled his eyes, but after a few playful nudges by Judy he grudgingly joined in too.

They stuck to the edges of the dance floor where they wouldn't be underfoot of the larger animals. There was a particularly exuberant Hippo named Henrietta who was sashaying her way through the crowd that could have taken out either of them with one misplaced dance step, but luckily she was easy to keep an eye on.

Eventually, Gazelle's voice trailed off with a final boom of drums and clang of cymbals. A new song swept in behind it, a slower instrumental piece that cleared the dance floor of the wilder party animals and left only a handful of quietly swaying couples behind.

Judy stopped hopping and looked bashfully over at Nick, who had gone stiff at the first plink of piano keys.

"I guess we should…” Judy gestured to the side of the dance floor.

"Oh!” said Nick. “Oh yeah, right—“

"I mean, unless you wanted to—"

"What?" Those bright green eyes swung around to meet her own, and Judy actually _felt_ her courage flee like the worst kind of prey.

"Nothing. Never mind. Let's go get another drink."

But Nick didn't move, and Judy found herself waiting. The fox was studying her, his head half-cocked as if she were a mark he couldn't quite get a read on.

"We _could_ do that," he agreed. " _Or_ …" He drew out the word, and Judy found herself stretching up on her toes, leaning in like that would get her closer to his answer. Anticipation was making curlicues in her stomach.

Nick tipped his nose up, ears flicking back as if distracted by snatches of song, but Judy couldn't even hear the music over her pounding heartbeat.

"Or?" she prompted him.

"Well, it _is_ a good song," he allowed. "We could... if you wanted to—"

"I'd love to!" Too loud, too excited. And she might have hopped. Once. A tiny hop.

But she didn't have time to feel embarrassed about it, because Nick smiled then, a small, crooked thing that softened his sharp fox features and made Judy's insides feel like they were melting into warm, carrot caramel. When had his smiles started affecting her so much? Judy couldn't say for sure. Maybe when she had realized that for all his easy smirks, his genuine smiles were much more rare? Or that almost all those rare smiles, when they appeared, seemed to be directed at her? At least, it felt that way to Judy. Maybe she was reading too much into it. Projecting, as they say, because it was for a certainty that she had never in her life smiled as much as she had in this past year after meeting Nick.

Whatever the reason, all she knew for sure was that she cherished every smile Nick gave her, and found herself actively looking for ways to coax out even more.

Nick held out his paw and Judy took it, feeling both nervous and strangely giddy. He yanked her around in a twirl and Judy squealed in surprise, then giggled when the move dislodged several more feathers from his ruff. They fluttered down around them like fluffy confetti, earning them curious looks from several passing couples.

"I really do think you might have a bit of a molting problem," Judy stage-whispered to him.

"I think you might be right," said Nick. "How do you think Chief Bogo will feel about me shedding feathers all over his precinct tomorrow?"

"I think he might shave you bald just to help you out."

The fox gave a mock shiver. "I think you might be right. Okay, new plan then."

"And that is?"

He twirled Judy again, spinning her outwards until they were only connected by the tips of their paws. "We dance to the last plume. Think you can keep up, Carrots?"

Judy tightened her grip. "Bring it on, feather boy."

Nick laughed tugged her back to him. He caught her close, and Judy's heart faltered a moment before bouncing back, double-time. He slipped a paw around her waist, and Judy shivered at the contact, struck by how wonderful it felt. And how natural.

She rested her paws on his upper arms, not quite brave enough to reach any higher, and let him lead her in a spirited waltz across the dance floor.

"You're very good at this," said Judy as they glided past Henrietta, now cuddled in the arms of her well-dressed beau.

Nick shrugged. "Dancing is a useful skill to know when conning the rich. It's all dinners and balls, dinners and balls with those guys. Ironically, there's better dancing at the dinners and better food at the balls."

"I refuse to believe you worked so hard for these great dance skills just so you could con some well-off pride of lions," said Judy.

"They were baboons, actually, which might explain the food—"

"Nick!"

"Alright, Carrots, you got me. That wasn't why." He spun her around a pair of mice who were too wrapped up in each other to even notice them. "Truth is, my uncle used to run a dance studio for children of the, shall we say, less loved animal species. When the Junior Ranger Scouts didn't pan out, my mother thought sending me to my uncle's would be a good alternative. He would be able to keep an eye out for me and my cousins also attended at the time, giving me a chance to play with other foxes my own age."

"Why do I feel like there's a 'but' coming?" asked Judy, hopping over a kangaroo’s tail as it swept by. Nick caught her and spun them away towards a more deserted area of the dance floor. "Because you are a very clever bunny.”

Flatterer. “So go on then. What's the but?"

"The _but_ ," said Nick with a sigh, "is that I had no real interest in dancing, and my uncle, while strict during class, would skip out the second it was over, leaving all of us kids to fend for ourselves until our parents came to pick us up. As for my cousins…" Nick shook his head. "They had already been indoctrinated into the stereotypical fox lifestyle, and were proud of it."

"And by that you mean…"

"That they were terrible little con artists. They divided their time between heckling me for my soft home life and bringing me up to scratch on what they saw as fundamental fox skills."

"Like hustling?"

Nick shot her a wink and one of his phony, too-big grins. "You got it. And I was so mad about, well, everything, that I was only too happy to learn whatever they deigned to teach me. Turns out I was a natural."

"A natural, huh?"

They had reached the edge of the dance floor, back to same spot they had started out at. The song was still going strong but they weren't dancing to it anymore. At some point, Judy had gone from gripping Nick's arms to resting her paws against his chest. Nick still held her around the waist, but had drawn her closer in a much more intimate hold. Judy wasn't sure he even noticed he had done it, but her heart was thumping like crazy and she prayed he couldn't feel it. He didn't seem in a rush to let her go, at least, and she wasn't about to pull away first.

"I'll give you that you do have some very exceptional natural abilities," said Judy, and smiled when she felt Nick's chest puff up a bit under her paws. "But it has nothing to do with hustling."

Nick blinked, frowned, and deflated a bit. "I hate to break it to you, Carrots, but that's the only natural ability I've got."

"On the contrary," said Judy. "You're also very funny. That has nothing to do with conning citizens."

“Oh, well then. Consider me corrected. I can’t believe it took me so long to realize what a gift I have.”

" _And_ you're clever," she went on, ignoring his sarcasm. "And determined, when you let yourself be. Not to mention brave, loyal, kind—"

"You're making me blush here, Carrots." But despite the glib response, he looked distinctly uncomfortable. It made Judy grin. It was so hard to catch the fox off guard, but oh-so-satisfying whenever she managed it. Sadly, the easiest way to do it seemed to be by paying him compliments.

Nick cleared his throat and looked away. "You know, Carrots… you're also… I mean, don't think that I'm not… well…"

Each stutter plucked at Judy's heart. Deciding to have mercy on him, she patted his chest, silently shushing him and drawing his gaze back to her.

"It's okay," she told him. "I wasn't saying those things so you would be forced to reciprocate. I just wanted you to know that no matter what some bird-brained hen thinks or what your family tells you, you are _not_ a natural hustler. You're a natural Nick Wilde, the best cop and greatest partner a bunny could ask for."

There it was again, that wonderful smile she loved so much. And in his eyes was this… _look_ that somehow made his gaze both darker and brighter at the same time. It reminded Judy of when she still lived in Bunnyburrow, on the nights when the moon was just a sliver in the sky and she couldn't see the whiskers in front of her face as she struggled to walk home after a long day of selling produce at her family’s produce stand. Every once in a great while, she would look up, and there in the sky would be a shooting star. And not just any shooting star, but one of those exceptionally bright ones that would light up the fields and meadows as it swept across the sky. And for the briefest moment she would be able to see all the way to her house, high up on the hilltop, and she would know: _There. That's the way home._

Maybe some of that memory showed in her eyes, because Nick's hold on her tightened, drawing her more fully against him, and Judy flicked her tail nervously as he leaned in close, his nose brushing against the fur of her throat. Not quite a nuzzle, but _so close_ , and Judy tipped her head back in thoughtless invitation. If only she could make a wish on his eyes like she could on a star.

"Are you conning me right now, Carrots?" Nick's voice was low and rough. Judy's paws curled into the fabric of his shirt. She shook her head, unable to find her voice, and Nick growled softly, the vibration of it making her tremble.

"Then why do I feel like I'm being hustled?"

"Who is… hustling who here?" managed Judy, and felt him smile into her fur.

"Who, indeed."

Judy bit her lip. Her partner had always been very tactile—and whether that was a fox thing or a Nick thing, she couldn't say for sure—but this went beyond his usual teasing. She had never seen him in this kind of mood before. Was it just because of what had happened with Mrs. Cluckington earlier? Or could it be something else?

Judy knew she should pull away. They were friends. _Partners_. And if Nick realized just how much this playing around was affecting her, it could ruin their whole relationship.

But to finally be in Nick's arms like this, like he never wanted to let her go… even if it was only innocent teasing on his part, for Judy it was a moment she had been dreaming about for months. And once it was over, who knew if he would ever hold her this way again?

_I wish..._

"Judy, I…"

"Judy Hopps?" The smooth male voice was like a bucket of ice water. Judy and Nick sprang apart, Judy flailing for a casual pose, Nick coughing and scrubbing at his nose, both looking everywhere but at each other.

A furry paw was extended toward Judy and she took it automatically, making a quick sweep of the animal in front of her as she did so: Bunny, early thirties, with fawn colored fur and an expensive gray suit, perfectly tailored. She couldn't help noticing that he had an impressive pair of ears. They made him almost as tall as Nick. Her sisters would have gone gaga over those ears.

"I'm sorry, have we met?"

His shake was less an actual shake and more a gentle squeeze. After a moment, he released her and stepped back. “Benjamin Cottontail, Miss Hopps. I'm hoping you can help me."

"Cottontail? Why does that name sound familiar?"

She looked over at Nick, who had recovered from his coughing fit and seemed back to his normal self, more or less. At her question, he sighed and shook his head in mock shame. "Still such a country bunny. Cottontail is one of the biggest produce suppliers in Zootopia. They've made the top ten list of Scaly Magazine's thirty most powerful companies five years in a row."

"Please," said Benjamin. "We don't set much score by lists like that. Truth is, we're still a small family company at heart."

"A family company that made over two billion dollars last year alone," said Nick.

"You've certainly done your research."

“You could say I used to be a bit of an entrepreneur.”

Benjamin's mouth quirked. "I see."

Judy tapped her chin. "Cottontail… Cottontail… Oh! I remember you now. Your face is on my bag of carrots."

Nick smothered a laugh. Poorly. Benjamin looked chagrined. "Ah. _That_ was an advertising idea I was pressured into by my investors. They thought it would boost sales if customers could put a face to the brand name."

A face like his, Judy could see why. It was hard for a bunny not to get a least a few folds and rolls here and there. Their bodies were predisposed to it. It took a lot of exercise to maintain a sleek figure. Even Judy couldn't completely get rid of the chubbiness in her cheeks, and she ran several miles every day. But Benjamin was all lean muscle, the epitome of a physically fit bunny.

_He must spend a fortune at the gym._

"Sounds like you have some smart investors," said Judy, and Benjamin smiled at the compliment.

Nick rolled his eyes.

"Ah, but you said you needed some help?" Judy scanned the room, but nothing jumped out at her as needing immediate police attention. The slow song had finally ended, and as a faster beat took its place animals started crowding past them, eager to return to the dance floor.

"Oh, it's nothing like that," Cottontail hurried to clarify. "But if I could steal a moment of your time, Miss Hopps? It is Miss, isn't it? Not Mrs.?"

“It's _Officer_ Hopps, actually," corrected Nick before Judy could answer. "And we're off duty right now. So unless this is an emergency, which you already stated it isn't, you can take your case to the ZPD and they can help you out there."

" _Nick_ ," hissed Judy. "Don't be rude."

"No, he's right," said Benjamin, "and I _would_ do that. Trust me, I'm not looking for special treatment here or anything. But the issue is a bit sensitive in nature. I’d rather not publicize it any more then necessary." He looked at Judy, golden eyes beseeching. "You of all animals should understand when I say that as a bunny, one mistake is all it takes for society to declare you incompetent at your job. I've worked hard to make my business a success, Officer Hopps. It would kill me for it to fall apart because of one bad article. "

Judy understood completely. "Of course. And we'd be more than happy to listen to whatever it is you have to tell us." She gave her partner a sharp nudge in the ribs. "Wouldn't we, Nick?"

The fox immediately slapped on a smile. It would have looked more believable if his teeth hadn't been gritted. "Of course we would. I'll get us some drinks."

"Just carrot juice for me," said Cottontail.

Nick's fake smile became even more strained. "One carrot juice, coming right up."

"If you'll follow me, Mr. Cottontail?" said Judy.

"Please, just Benjamin."

"Of course. This way." Judy led the way over to a corner booth across from the bar and gestured for him to sit, taking the side opposite and pulling out her carrot pen. When Nick returned with the drinks and slid into the booth beside her, she clicked on the recorder and looked expectantly at Cottontail. "Okay. Whenever you're ready."

The bunny nodded and took a deep breath. "Well, I want to start by apologizing for bothering you with this. It's hardly worth the effort of the great Judy Hopps.”

Nick snorted into his drink. Judy glared at him.

"But I don't know who else I can turn to. I'd rather handle it myself, but frankly it's become a matter of safety. I'm concerned for my employees. The last incident we had, one of our security guards, Arnie, got hurt. He's a tough old armadillo who's not easy to get the jump on, but they managed it somehow."

"They, who?" asked Judy. "And what kind of incidents are these that we're talking about here?"

"Break-ins. At our main distribution factory. Two so far, but I'm worried they'll strike again if we don't do something soon."

"Why didn't you report it the first time?" asked Nick.

"As I said, we consider ourselves a family company. We like to keep our business _our_ business, and the first time it happened no on was hurt. Just a broken window and some destruction of property. Nothing the company couldn't cover. And it's not like I can't sympathize."

"With the vandals?"

Cottontail nodded. "You see, the Cottontail Corporation has decided to branch out. Until now, we've only acted as distributors. We'd purchase vegetables from select farmers, then package and ship the food to the local stores. But now we're trying something a little bit different. We're about to release a new line of meals. All natural lunches and dinners using the same great vegetables customers know and love, but already prepared so there's virtually no work. Just pop it in the oven and you're done."

"Is that your tag line?" asked Nick.

Cottontail’s laugh was self-deprecating. "Sorry. We've been shooting a lot of commercials lately. I might have memorized one too many scripts. Anyway, we anticipate that it'll be a huge success. That is, if we can stop these break-ins long enough to get the product out there. We've scheduled two shipments so far, and each time the break-ins have occurred the night before."

"And you believe that it's due to your new product?" asked Judy.

"I know that it is. It's the only thing they bother with. Everything else is left alone."

"You said you felt sympathetic towards them," said Nick. "Does that mean you know who's doing it?"

Benjamin nodded and took a sip of carrot juice. "Unfortunately. There's a small restaurant owned by a family of foxes over near one of the stores that stocks our products. The Corsacs. They cater to herbivores specifically. It's possible that our new meal line could have a negative impact on their sales. We think that’s what's driving them to do this."

At the word _foxes_ , Nick went stiff in his seat. Judy glanced at him, concerned. Cottontail noticed the reaction too. The bunny's expression and voice went soft as he continued. "As I said, the company understands. That's why we overlooked it the first time. I paid for all the ruined meals myself and rescheduled the shipping date for the following month. But then they came again, and this time they clawed up Arnie on top of destroying our supplies. We're worried what they might resort to the next time."

"Do you have any evidence it was them?" asked Nick.

"Besides Arnie's testimony? Yes, in fact. We had security cameras installed after the first break-in. We're sympathetic, Officer Wilde, not stupid. We caught them on tape fleeing the premises after the attack."

"Can you send us a copy of that video?" asked Judy.

"I can."

“We’ll also need a list of all the foxes you think are involved, your contact information, and the name of the restaurant if you have it."

"Of course."

"You said Arnie is willing to give a statement?"

"He is."

"Then we will be in touch with you about that as well."

"Thank you, Officer."

Buzzing drew their attention to the front pocket of Cottontail’s suit. With a quiet apology, he pulled out his phone and checked the screen. "I'm sorry, but I have to go."

"No problem, Mr. Cottontail," said Judy. “I think we have enough information for tonight.”

"Please, it's Ben. And thank you. I'll be sure to have a courier send you the security footage and all the information you require first thing tomorrow morning." He hopped from the booth and bowed to both Judy and Nick, his ears remaining perfectly straight the entire time. Judy's nose twitched with jealousy. She could never get her ears to stay straight like that.

"Thank you for taking the time to listen," said Cottontail. "And… if there is any way you can show the foxes leniency, I hope that you do so."

"We'll do our best," said Judy. "Have a good night.”

“And to you as well.”

Judy waited until he had left the bar to look at Nick. "You okay?"

"Fine."

He certainly didn't sound fine. But then, it had been a stupid question on her part to begin with.

"So what do you think?"

"I think he's a privileged, lying sleazeball and that speckled fur pattern of his is a total dye job."

"I _meant_ about the case."

"Oh, that." Nick waved a careless paw, but his expression was hard. "I don't like it."

"You don't think the foxes did it?"

"I'm saying it doesn't makes _sense_ that they did it. Foxes are clever, Carrots, and ruining a store's product is short term with no end goal. It clearly won't succeed forever. They have to know they'll eventually get caught and go to jail, so what's the point?"

"Desperation makes animals do reckless things sometimes," said Judy. "And they _do_ have motive. Fear for their restaurant."

"And what kind of foxes serve food only herbivores would like, anyway?" demanded Nick. "Whatever Cottontail produces, it shouldn't be a threat to their business."

Judy shrugged. "Well apparently they are. And it is."

"But _why_?"

"I don't know. But we can look into it more tomorrow. Ready to go?"

Nick nodded and shoved away from the booth. Together they paid for their drinks, said goodbye to Clawhauser and the other officers, and headed out into the chilly night.

Judy shivered. Soon it would be as cold as Tundratown. She had heard that Sahara Square and the Rainforest District were having to work their climate wall twice as hard to keep the air hot and temperate. Only Savanna Central in Downtown Zootopia kept to the standard seasonal changes. But being surrounded by hot, tropical, and freezing landscapes did strange things with the weather. Like tonight. It was still fall, but a northern wind sweeping across Tundratown made it feel twice as cold in the main city.

Judy zipped up her coat and looked with concern over at Nick, who was hunched in only his shirtsleeves with his fists jammed into his pockets. But Judy suspected that his posture had more to do with his mood and less to do with the cooler temperature.

Together they headed for the subway station.

"This is really bothering you, isn't it?" said Judy when they had gone two blocks and Nick still hadn't spoken a word.

"The Cottontail Corporation already makes billions of dollars a year," he told her. "Why start a new line of products they don't need when they know it's going to hurt other businesses?"

“Capitalism is ruthless that way," said Judy. "You know that, _Mr. Entrepreneur_."

Nick was not amused by her attempt at teasing. "I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of, Carrots. But I've never ruined a family's entire business and then had them arrested for it."

"You say it like Mr. Cottontail _made_ them break in and destroy his property." When Nick just continued to fume silently, Judy sighed. "Look. Legally, Mr. Cottontail can sell whatever product he wants to. Does it stink that it hurts the foxes' business? Yes, it does. A lot. And I feel for the foxes, too. You know I do. But they can't be allowed to go around breaking the law. Innocent animals are getting hurt now because of them."

"You don't know for sure yet that it was them."

"You're right, I don't," agreed Judy. "I hope it's not. But you need to prepare yourself. If they were caught on film… Nick—" Judy laid a paw on his arm, halting him. She could feel the tension running through the fox like electricity through a live wire. It worried her. He was usually better at shaking off this kind of thing.

"You can't get emotional about this," she warned him. "As much as you might not like it, we have to go by the evidence. And if the evidence shows—"

"I don't _care_ what the evidence shows," Nick growled. "This whole thing stinks, and that bunny worst of all."

She knew he didn’t mean it literally, but at his words, Judy suddenly remembered how Nick had been rubbing at his nose after they’d danced and she couldn’t help but wonder: had her smell offended him? Did he think _she_ smelled bad? It shouldn’t have been important. It certainly had nothing to do with what they were talking about now. But Judy couldn’t help but feel annoyed as she said, "Well you should care, because that _stinky bunny_ is the one who came to us for help. He's worried about his employees. You can't blame him for that."

"Don't let the guy's concerned bigwig act fool you, Carrots. The only thing he cares about is his bottom line. He knows that if he went down to the station, it would be reported by the news, and then the company stocks would take an unscheduled dip and ruin his sales."

"Maybe that's true. But doesn't he have the right to be worried about that? He's the victim here, Nick. And if you can't be objective about this then…"

"Then what?" he challenged. They were standing toe-to-toe, nearly as close as they had been while dancing, but Judy had never felt further away from him.

"Then maybe you need to sit this one out," she said.

Those beautiful green eyes widened in surprise and hurt for just a brief, painful moment before he yanked the emotions back. That carefully constructed mask of indifference that Judy hated so much came slamming down between them and he backed away from her until she either had to follow after him or let him go.

She let go.

"Fine," he said. "You don't want me working with you on this? Then go ahead. Investigate on your own. I'll look into Mr. Cottonbutt myself and prove to you that I'm right."

"That's not—" Judy tried to say, but Nick was already striding away from her, into the dark where the streetlights didn't reach, leaving a trail of small, white, downy feathers in his wake.

"Nick. Where are you going?"

But he didn't answer her, and Judy knew that even if she chased after him she wouldn't catch him. Not tonight.

_Stupid, stubborn fox._

Grumbling to herself, Judy spun on her heel and continued on to the subway station. She refused to feel guilty. Nick was the one who was being ridiculous and overreacting. The encounter with the roosters and hen had gotten him all riled up, and having to listen to Mr. Cottontail accuse a fox family had just been one straw too many. By this time tomorrow, she told herself, Nick would have calmed down enough to realize how foolish he was being. He would apologize, and maybe she would too, and then they would move on and solve this case together, as they should be doing.

"And I do _not_ stink," she grumbled as she stomped down the subway station's steps.

A skunk who was leaning against the handrail heard her and pumped his fist in solidarity. "You tell 'em, bunny. Smell is relative.”


	2. Chapter 2

Judy arrived at work the next morning hopeful and ready to swap apologies with Nick. Instead she found the police station lacking exactly one fox officer.

One fox officer who hadn't appeared for their morning debriefing, who hadn't taken the squad car, who hadn't so much as stolen a doughnut.

"And I bought extra too," said Clawhauser.

Judy looked pointedly at the empty doughnut box.

"Well I couldn't let them go to waste!"

"But you did _see_ him this morning, didn't you?"

Clawhauser nodded emphatically. "Oh yeah. Stopped by to pick up his mail. Seemed kind of distracted. Did something happen?"

"You could say that."

"Hopps!"

Judy jumped. Chief Bogo glared down at her from the second floor balcony. "My office. Now."

_Great._

She forced herself to keep her steps light as she ascended the stairs. Chief Bogo was seated behind his desk when she entered. He gestured impatiently for her to close the door.

"Officer Wilde called this morning. He informed me that you spoke with a Benjamin Cottontail last night about some suspicious activity happening at his factory."

Judy fought not to react. _Suspicious activity_. _Could Nick have been any more vague?_ but she couldn't say anything. If her boss found out that they were arguing, or that Nick was blindly taking the foxes' side without any evidence when Mr. Cottontail had approached them first, he would be in serious trouble. No matter how irritated she was with him, she didn't want that to happen.

So when Chief Bogo paused in clear invitation for her to clarify what this "suspicious activity" entailed, Judy played dumb. "Did he? It's true that we spoke with Mr. Cottontail about some of his… concerns. We are planning on looking into it A.S.A.P, sir."

"And separately too, I hear."

Judy flinched. "Is… is that what Nick told you?"

"'In order to achieve more accurate angles,' I believe were his exact words."

_Accurate angles, my furry behind_. But Judy could only bite her tongue and agree. Stuck. She was completely stuck.

"Is there _anything_ about this case that I should know?" Chief Bogo asked.

“Um…”

"Let me rephrase: Is there any reason, Officer Hopps, that I shouldn't be suspicious of this cagey attitude of yours?"

"Well, that is… the situation is fairly delicate and, um… Mr. Cottontail would like to have this dealt with as discreetly as possible, so… being the head of such a large and powerful corporation, Nick and I are merely trying to acquiesce to Mr. Cottontail's wishes as best we can. Therefore—"

"Oh stuff it, Hopps." Chief Bogo shoved away from his desk. "Fine. Investigate how you like. But know that the only reason I'm letting you and Wilde get away with acting like this is because you two have a spotless record. _For now_. The minute that stops being the case, those privileges get revoked. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

He paused at the door. Judy nibbled the inside of her cheek, inwardly bouncing, anxious to be free of his office. Chief Bogo turned back to her. "You _will_ turn in your paperwork to me promptly once you're finished with this, Hopps. I want everything down in print as soon as this is done. All of it. Every last fact. I don't care if this bunny's name is Goldentail. You hear me?"

"Yes, sir. I definitely do, sir. And rest assured, we have everything well under control."

He yanked the door open. "Then get out of here, Hopps. And check in with your partner, will you? He's acting suspicious even for a fox."

"Yes, sir." She booked it from the room. Once she reached the relative privacy of her desk, she called Nick again.

Still no answer.

She tried her walkie, but there was nothing besides a short burst of static.

"Stubborn fox," she muttered, tossing the walkie onto her desk and knocking over a pile of papers someone had left there for her. Judy flipped through them. The top sheet was a brief letter from Benjamin Cottontail, thanking her again for her help and listing all the foxes in question along with their restaurant's address. The pages after that gave the histories, records, and backgrounds of the foxes he had named.

Judy felt her heart give a painful thump. Nick had done all this. Come in early, talked to Chief Bogo, and finished all the background checks so he could head out and get started on finding his evidence.

Judy did a quick read-through of the records. The foxes' family name was Corsac. They all had the same shaggy, pale yellow fur with hints of gray down their backs and white bellies. Todd, Reynard, Craven and Marian. All young. Marian was the oldest at twenty-nine. Todd the youngest; only sixteen. Craven and Reynard were twenty-seven and twenty-three, respectively. None of them had any priors. Really, all of them looked too sweet to be criminals, and Judy had to remind herself that that didn't necessarily mean anything.

Benjamin had been right, they did own a herbivore restaurant. It was called Edible Greens, and it was located in the heart of the Burrows. That explained the menu, but not why the foxes had decided to set up shop there in the first place.

The papers started to slip from Judy's paws and she fumbled the stack. A DVD fell out onto the desk. The security footage. It was only half in it's sleeve—not a good sign. Nick must've watched it and not been happy, otherwise he would have taken better care.

Judy tucked the papers back into their folder and took it all with her to the small video room in the back of the precinct. It was empty, thankfully.

Hopping up into one of the creaky desk chairs, she popped in the DVD and hit play.

The security camera looked to be attached to a light pole across from the Cottontail factory building, based on the height and angle of the shot. The time at the bottom right corner of the screen read 2:41am.

Despite knowing it was coming, Judy's heart still dropped when four fox-shape figures crept around the side of the building. She had been hoping—harder then she'd realized until this moment—that the image would be unclear, fuzzy, or too far away to prove it was them. Anything that could make a strong defense in court. But the image was clear. The Corsacs' pale coats were distinct even with the green tinge of night vision. The Cottontail Corporation had spared no expense on their security cameras, it seemed. The foxes even glanced around multiple times, giving Judy a perfect shot of each of their faces: Marian, Craven, Reynard, and Todd.

Criminals they might now be, but masterminds they were not.

There was no sound, so the window they smashed was a silent action. But Judy didn't need to hear it when she could see it all so perfectly. She watched them slip into the building, and then sneak out again fifteen minutes later, Craven now sporting a limp. She should send forensics in, check to see if he left any DNA.

_And ruin them even further?_

Feeling heartsick, she ejected the DVD.

Her first thought was for Nick. She imagined him sitting in this dark little room, wanting so desperately to prove that the foxes were innocent, and then seeing this. She should have been with him. They were partners, even if they disagreed. And Nick… where had he gone? After watching the footage, he had still left. Without leaving a note. Without calling her. Did that mean he was still planning on proving the foxes' innocence?

Dumb bunny. Of course he was.

She tried to call him again. Again, no answer.

This time she left a message. "Nick. I saw the video. _Call me_. Please?"

She thumped a foot against chair seat, debating. Well. There was nothing to do but continue on as she was. She would investigate the foxes to the best of her ability, and hopefully, run into Nick along the way.

And maybe, this time, she'd be able to talk some sense into him.

She didn't like to think of what he might do otherwise.

* * *

Since Nick had left their squad car behind, Judy decided she would take it and drive over to the Burrows for some lunch.

It was after noon by the time she arrived at Edible Greens, but the lights were out and the door was locked. A sign hanging from the window simply said CLOSED.

Well, it _had_ been a long shot.

She glanced around. It was nice area. Modest businesses in pastel colors doted both sides of the street, with lots of greenery in-between. She could picture her parents vacationing here, window-shopping at all the stores because they refused to buy anything that wasn't a necessity, and comparing everything to Bunnyburrow. Bunnyburrow being far superior, of course.

She noticed that a couple of floppy-eared bunnies were watching her from a bus stop across the street, their noses twitching with curiosity. Judy smiled brightly and jogged over to them. "Hiya! You wouldn't happen to live around here, would you?"

One of the bunnies, with thick gray fur and a bit of a stoop, pointed a fuzzy paw at her. "You're that Judy Hopps. I've seen you on the news."

"Yes, that's me," said Judy. "And you are…"

"Bunnies around here call me Grandpa Gregor. Marty, look here. It's Judy Hopps."

The second bunny, taller and with fur a darker shade of gray, smiled and nodded. "Yes, I see her, Grandpa."

"What are you doing nosing around old Carol's place?" asked the elderly bunny.

"Carol?" None of the foxes had gone by that name. "Don't foxes own the restaurant? The Corsacs?"

"Own it?" Grandpa Gregor frowned. "Maybe they do now, but everyone around here knows it as old Carol's place. Been in her family for three generations. Well, it used to be."

"Used to be?"

"She passed on—what, been a couple months now, right, Marty?"

"I'm so sorry," said Judy. "Was it sudden?"

"Sudden enough. We had a small RHD outbreak here a few months ago. Lost several good bunnies to it. We thought Carol would manage to pull through, but…" He shrugged heavily.

"How awful." Coming from a large bunny family, Judy knew just how terrifying an outbreak of the bunny virus could be. It came on quick, and was almost always fatal unless it was caught early, and sometimes not even then.

"It was very sad," agreed Marty. "Carol Hopson was a one of a kind bunny."

"How so?" asked Judy.

"Well it's not every bunny who will take in a couple of foxes, is it?" said Grandpa Gregor. "Especially not thirty years ago. Shifty animals, they say. We all thought she was crazy to let them stay with her. A young bunny widow with a baby not old enough to even see yet, and she's inviting predators into her home? We all told her—Carol, better to be a little lonely than dinner, right? But she wouldn't hear a word against them. They didn't make any trouble, though. Pulled their weight at the restaurant and always helped out at the festivals. They would even chase off the birds for us. The larger ones that like to fly over and scare us just for kicks. And their kits do all that and more now, so… I suppose Carol had the right of it."

"I suppose she did," said Judy with a smile. "You mentioned that she had a child. They didn't want the restaurant?"

"Who, Peter? That boy was a regular jackrabbit, pardon my language. Rude to everyone, including his mama. Got into fights all the time... Even picked a few with Marty here, and that takes some doing. We've wondered if it wasn't because he was an only child. Bunnies aren't meant to grow up without at least a few siblings around. It's not healthy. Anyways, he took off when he was sixteen, and good riddance, I say. Carol was better off without him."

Judy wondered if Carol had felt the same. "Do you know when the restaurant will be reopened?"

"Couldn't tell you. The place has been closed since the funeral. Not even Marian's been around, and she practically lived there."

"Marian Corsac?"

Both bunnies nodded.

"So did you know the Corsacs? Spend any time with them at all?"

"Of course. Marty was in the same year as Marian. Even had a crush on her in middle school, didn't you, son?"

Marty ducked his head, rubbing at his ears self-consciously. Grandpa chuckled. "Kits. But they were sweet as could be. All four of them. And I don't mean just for foxes. Did more chores for Carol for free than I could ever bribe my children to do."

"So they were good neighbors then? Never had any problems with anyone that you know of?"

The bunnies shared a look.

"Why are you asking all these question?" Grandpa Gregor asked.

"Marian's not in trouble, is she?" asked Marty. He seemed genuinely concerned. Both bunnies did.

"I'm not at liberty—"

"The Corsacs are _good_ _foxes_ ," said Grandpa Gregor, stressing the words. "I don't know what it is you're looking for here, but they would never do anything to bring the ZPD down on them. Now the _Swifts_ , on the other hand…"

"The Swifts?"

"Grandpa, don't cause trouble," whispered Marty, "You don't know—"

"I _do_ know. That Swift fellow is a bad influence on Marian. If she's in trouble, I bet you anything it's his doing."

Judy perked her ears. "What Swift fellow?"

Marty winced and scratched his cheek. "A fox Marian was seeing. Grandpa here is a bit protective of the Corsacs, and he's got it into his head that Robin was, well—"

"Trying to scam us, is what he was trying to do," said Grandpa Gregor. "Coming around asking for money..."

"I told you, Grandpa, it was for a charity fund. For foxes."

"There's not even any other foxes around here!"

Marty looked beseechingly at Judy. "Please don't listen to him. It's really not like that."

Judy nodded, but she still made a mental note: Robin Swift.

The bus pulled up then. Judy helped get Grandpa Gregor on, then did a quick exchange of numbers with Marty in case she had any more questions. Marty was hesitant, but didn't quite have the nerve to say no to an officer.

Once they were gone, Judy hurried back to her squad car. She checked her phone but had no missed calls.

She drove to the Corsacs' last known address. The house looked a bit small for four grown foxes. Still, she supposed it had more space than an apartment. It needed a paint job and a new fence, but even still, there was evidence of care. Neatly trimmed bushes grew under the windowsill and the porch and driveway had been swept of leaves.

Unfortunately, the house was just as dark and empty as the restaurant. Judy peeked in the mailbox and found a notice stating that their unclaimed mail had been taken back to the post office for safekeeping and that they should come collect it before the end of the month or it would be returned to the sender. Clearly, the foxes had gone to ground. It made sense. They knew they were guilty. They had to know the ZPD would come looking for them. They'd be stupid to stick around. Still... something about this case was starting to niggle at Judy. She hadn't felt it when Nick had first pointed it out, but she was feeling it now. Things just weren't adding up properly.

For instance, why would a family whose neighbors claimed they were model citizens go after a company that hadn't, technically, done anything to them yet? Maybe Cottontail's new products would ruin their business, but maybe it wouldn't. That was a pretty big move to make based on just a maybe. Were they simply feeling the pressure from Carol Hopson's death? If, in fact, they were even the owners of the restaurant now. That still remained to be seen. _Did_ their actions have something to do with this Robin Swift character? And what was _his_ motive, if that was indeed the case?

She didn't get it. And she didn't like that she didn't get it.

She pulled out her phone stared at it. If only Nick where here to bounce ideas off of. Maybe the tenth time would be the charm?

A bunny could hope.

Judy crossed her ears and dialed.


	3. Chapter 3

Nick was stopped at a crosswalk when his phone rang.

Though he already knew who it would be, he couldn't stop himself from pulling it out and checking. A picture of his partner's face stared back at him, her cheeks stuffed with carrot cake, eyes wide with surprise at Nick's sneak attack with the camera. He had paid dearly for the shot, but it had been worth it just for the look on Judy's face when she realized she had been caught sneaking birthday cake during work hours. The hustle had been a simple one: Nick got her photo, she got Nick's silence.

A giraffe craned his neck to see over Nick's shoulder. "Hey, buddy, that sound is really annoying. Are you going to answer the call or not?"

"Police business. Stay out of it," said Nick.

"Police?" The giraffe took in Nick's uniform and badge. One eyebrow rose in surprise. He mumbled a quiet sorry and lifted his head a respectful distance away.

Nick turned back to his phone, and to his partner whose expression he was betting looked a lot less like the one currently on his screen and a lot more like the one she'd had ten seconds _after_ he had taken the photo.

That was, thoroughly ticked off.

_You can't avoid her forever._

_I'm doing good so far._

_Answer it. Apologize like a mature fox._

_I never claimed to be mature. Cynical and clever? Sure. But not mature._

_Just talk to her. You know she'll listen._

_Like she listened last night?_

But that wasn't entirely fair. Judy had made some good points. Didn't change the fact that she was _wrong_ , but she was thinking like a proper cop should. Nick, on the other hand…

The crosswalk light turned green. Nick hit IGNORE and pocketed the phone, following the flow of pedestrians across the intersection.

Judy thought he was being emotional. _Him_. Nick Wilde. _Ha_. Foxes didn't get emotional. And even if they did, sometimes, _rarely_ , this wasn't about emotions. It was about gut instinct. Nick had seen enough scams over the years to know when to follow his feelings even when his mind was being fooled. And if that made him a bad cop, then…

Then…

_No one would be surprised._

A squad car drove by. Nick dove behind a nearby elephant before he could think better of it. But it was just Officer McHorn on his way back to the station. Nick breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do you _mind_?"

Nick looked up. The elephant was glaring down at him, trunk pulled back like she might smack him with it.

"Just because we elephants are one of the larger species of animals does not give you the right to use us as _hiding places_ ," she trumpeted.

"Ah." Nick scrambled back and gestured for her to go ahead. "My apologies, Swee—Ma'am."

" _Hmf_." Trunk held high, she stomped off.

Truth was, there were a lot of days when he felt less like a real officer and more like he was running his biggest hustle yet—and failing. He had been so happy and proud to join Judy on the force. Still was. But the constant looks, the snide comments… Animals disregarded him, even when he showed them his badge. Or they laughed at him. Nick didn't know why he had thought it would be any different, but he couldn't lie that it wasn't getting to him. Judy faced a lot of the same, he knew, but she was a good bunny, highly moral and competent, with the best intentions, always. She could keep on going confidently because of that.

Nick, on the other hand… He had spent so many years proving the other animals' suspicions of him right that it felt almost hypocritical to claim such a sterling title as _officer_ now. Judy would disagree, of course. If she caught even a hint that he was having such thoughts, she would punish him with affection and a long-winded lecture about all his supposed good points. Her constant validation was incredibly frustrating.

And at the same time, so incredibly irresistible.

He passed by a dance studio. Through the plate glass windows, half a dozen hippos in pink tutus and tights were practicing the plié. Maybe it was because they reminded him of Henrietta, but the sight took him right back to last night and his dance with Judy.

Another dumb move on his part.

He should have taken Judy's out when she'd offered it and gone for drinks. But it had been obvious that she'd wanted to keep dancing, and after so many months of being restricted to only the briefest, teasing touches, it had been the perfect opportunity to finally hold her in his arms the way he'd been dying to, without fear of hurting her or giving himself away. He hadn't been strong enough or selfless enough to pass up the chance.

And it should have been fine. Nick had been happy. Satisfied. And most importantly, under control. But then he'd made the mistake of mentioning his uncle's dance studio, and Judy had to go and do that _thing_. That _comforting_ _thing_ that drove him absolutely crazy in both the best and worst possible way.

Resisting her was starting to feel like a losing battle. From the start he had been drawn to her. Even when he hadn't trusted her. Even when she had exasperated him with her stubbornness and unfailing optimism, he couldn't help but be attracted to it, too. For a fox who had given up long ago, Judy's strength of spirit had made him hopeful again, and it was both painful and addicting.

But then he'd have a bad day like yesterday. Because opinions didn't change overnight and he had just as many run-ins with closed-minded animals as he did before—more now, even. And then he'd see Judy, beautiful and strong and compassionate, trying so hard to cheer him up and keep him fighting, and he just wanted to pull her into his arms and absorb every wonderful inch of her into his cynical heart.

He'd slipped.

Thankfully, Judy hadn't seemed to notice. It might have frustrated him if he wasn't so relieved. If any relationship could be more impossible than a fox and a bunny, he couldn't think of one.

A mouse and an elephant, maybe.

Or a dog and a dolphin…

Regardless, it could never happen. So he would keep his distance—no more dancing. And he would work. He would get proof that the Corsacs were innocent, because he _was_ an officer, deserving or not, and because Judy was right that they needed evidence in order to prove anything. And then he would throw it right into that stiff-eared Cottonbutt's face, because good cop or bad Nick was not above some petty payback when it came to greasy bunnies who got between him and his partner.

* * *

The Cottontail factory was located near Riverside, straddling the delta that separated Savanna Central from Sahara Square. Divided into two parts, the factory consisted of several domed-shaped buildings made from concrete and connected by breezeways, while the main office was a towering structure of black glass and steel. 

It was a unique choice for a bunny-owned company. Bunnies usually tended toward more humble architectural styles, modestly designed and low to the ground for quick escapes. The height of Cottontail's factory told Nick that Benjamin was a bunny secure in his status who didn't mind drawing attention to himself or his company.

Well, he certainly had Nick's attention.

The main offices were located on the West side. Nick entered through a set of medium-sized doors and found himself in one of the most opulent reception rooms he had ever been in. The floor was made from dark wood polished to a high shine. Paintings of fields and meadows decorated the walls in a tasteful array. Plush chairs in various sizes had been spread around to create a sprawling lounge area, interspersed with leafy, potted plants to give the illusion of privacy. The reception desk sat along the back wall, manned by a sheep, a bunny, and a goat who were all quietly typing away at their computers.

Nick approached the sheep. To her credit, she didn't so much as bat an eye at finding a fox suddenly standing in front of her.

"How may I help you, sir?"

"Officer Wilde here to see Mr. Cottontail."

"Of course. We were told you might be dropping by. Is Officer Hopps with you as well?"

Nick made a show of looking around him. "Looks like it's just me today."

"Very good, sir. I'll let Mr. Cottontail know you're here." She typed something into her computer. Nick leaned against the counter, tapping a claw against the granite as he waited.

There was a basket of carrots a little further down. Complimentary vegetables? Nick reached over to take one, thinking maybe he could use it as a peace offering when he finally saw Judy, but they were made of wax.

Figured.

He made sure the sheep wasn’t looking, then pocketed one anyway.

"Mr. Cottontail says he'll be right down. In the meantime, if you would like to sign in?" A clipboard and pen were placed before him. Nick signed his name at the bottom. Who knew a produce factory got so many visitors? Out of curiosity, he read through some of the names: _Frederick C. Wolff… Dominick Donkey… Marty Lop…Wilbur the Pig…_ _Reynard Corsac… Todd Corsac…_

_Wait._

Nick reread the names. Was this a joke? But the spelling checked out. He pulled up the files he had loaded onto his phone and compared the signatures. He was no expert on graphology, but they looked identical to him.

A door behind the reception desk swung open and Cottontail stepped out. He hopped gracefully over the counter and beamed at Nick, holding out a paw. 

"Officer Wilde. A pleasure to see you again so soon."

"I'm sure it is." Instead of taking the proffered paw, Nick handed him the sign-in sheet. "Care to explain this?"

"I'm not sure I know what I'm supposed to be—"

Nick tapped on the names. "Looks like you had some visitors last month that you failed to mention. Now, I'm curious. Why would your saboteurs being visiting you at your place of business? Any ideas?"

"Oh my," said Cottontail. He looked over at the sheep. "Tracy, I thought I told you to print out a new sheet?"

"I'm sorry, sir."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Are you admitting that you wanted to cover this up?"

Cottontail made a face. "You misunderstand. I wasn't doing it for myself. I was trying to help _them_." He waved the clipboard.

"You were trying to help the animals that want to ruin you?"

Cottontail nodded, his expression so sympathetic it made Nick's teeth itch.

"How is hiding their visit here helping them?" demanded Nick. "Seems to me like it's helping _you_ cover up the fact that you know more than you want to admit to."

"No! That's not it at all. I told you and Officer Hopps everything I knew last night."

"Then why leave out this?"

Cottontail plucked at his tie. "Because while I need them stopped, I would still like to spare the Corsacs from any undo punishment. And I knew they would be in enough trouble without adding this… visit, to their list of crimes."

"How is them coming to see you a crime? Especially if it was before their first break in."

"Because things got a bit… out of paw, you could say."

"Out of paw how?"

When Cottontail hesitated, Tracy answered for him. "They were threatening Mr. Cottontail. Multiple animals witnessed it."

"I didn't think they would actually _do_ anything," said Cottontail. "Not until the first break in. And even then, I didn't think they would hurt anyone, until Arnie…"

Nick smothered a growl. He had come here hoping to find a lead, anything to give reasonable doubt, and instead he had to find _this_. 

Cottontail stood there, waiting. Even his patience annoyed Nick.

"Next time, you tell us everything," Nick told him. "It's not your call to decide what the ZPD does and doesn't need to know about a case. Got it?”

"Of course." Cottontail bowed his head. "My apologies."

"Forget it. Where is the security guard you mentioned? Arnie. I have some questions for him."

"Right this way."

Cottontail led him through a door that said AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY and down a long, twisting hallway that sloped downwards ever so slightly. There was no fancy woodwork or pastoral art scenes here. Just cement floors and paper thin walls that were painted a pale green and smelled like dirt.

_Looks like Cottontail has some insecurities after all._

Eventually they stopped outside a door. It was gray, unmarked, and made of steel, if Nick wasn't mistaken.

"You can wait out here," he told Cottontail.

"As you wish."

Inside, the room was crammed with long plastic tables a far cry from the beaver-sculpted mahogany kept upstairs in the lobby. Shiny new big-screen monitors covered every available surface. Packaging was still piled into corners and instruction manuals were tucked here and there among the equipment. Clearly they had set this room up in a hurry.

Arnie sat alone near the wall, his leathery gray shell backlit by half a dozen glowing screens. 

His tiny eyes narrowed at the sight of Nick.

"Criminy, not another one."

"Mr. Shellfield, I'm Officer Wilde. I was hoping you could answer some questions about what happened to you."

The armadillo harrumphed and folded his arms across his chest. "What's there to question? Those foxes attacked me. I'm lucky to be alive."

"And yet for such a close near-death experience, you're already back at work."

"I insisted. Someone's got to protect this place until those animals are caught. Mr. Cottontail took me off patrol duty until I healed up, but I can still watch the cameras well enough."

"So you were on patrol duty when the break in occurred?"

Arnie nodded. "My guys saw them coming in thanks to our new cameras. I found them over in shipping. They were running around, ripping up everything. Off their rockers, the lot of them."

"And then they came after you?"

Arnie grunted.

"Those wounds you have…" Nick pointed to the scratches along the armadillo's chest and arms. "They look like defensive wounds."

"Yeah. Because they were _attacking_ me. What about this are you having trouble understanding?"

"But usually when an animal attacks, they go for a weak point," said Nick. "Or come at you from the back or sides, not straight on. And there were four of them. They should have been able to surround you, come at you all at once…"

"What are you saying?"

"Who started the physical altercation, Mr. Shellfield? Did the Corsacs really attack you, or did you make a move first?"

"I was trying to make them _stop_. That's my job, _Officer_."

"You're a security guard. You were outnumbered and, as you said, the suspects were acting irrationally. At that point your job was to retreat and call the ZPD. But you didn't. You confronted them instead. How many of them actually attacked you? Was it all of them, or maybe just one? The one _you_ went after first?" Maybe the one who had been limping in the video. Craven.

Arnie hunched in his chair and hissed. "Are you judging me right now? I'm going to be out for _weeks_ because of what they did to me. And you dare to stand there and defend them just because they didn't go for my jugular?"

"I'm not defending any—"

"Who's your boss? Is it Chief Bogo? The buffalo must be getting senile in his old age, letting _you_ investigate this case. You're kind can't help but stick together. It's always the same."

_Don't let them see that they get to you…_

"I'm just trying to get the facts straight, sir."

"I'll tell you a _fact_. Those foxes should be put down. And _you_ should be fired."

"Mr. Shellfield—"

"I'm done being helpful. You want me to answer anything else, send your replacement."

Nick left.

"Please don't mind Arnie," said Cottontail after Nick had rejoined him in the hall. "He's been through a lot. It's tough for an old guy to admit he can't do everything."

Nick made no comment.

"Is there anything else I can do to help?"

"Yeah. Don't leave town," said Nick.

Cottontail actually laughed. "Isn't that what they usually say to the suspects?"

"That's right," said Nick, and at least had the satisfaction of finally wiping that condescending smile from the bunny's face as he strode off.

Sometimes, it was the little things that kept you going.

* * *

Judy shifted about on the cold stoop, antsy to be up and doing but determined to sit and wait.

The temperature had dropped even further tonight. She had bundled into her warmest coat, but the cement wouldn't warm no matter how long she sat on it and the chill was starting to seep through her pants and into her fur.

For the tenth time, she looked over her shoulder at the red brick structure with its flower-boxed windows and shiny security lights. Nick's apartment building was much nicer than hers. Nicer neighborhood, too. But she still didn't relish the thought of having to spend the night out here, waiting for him.

She would, though. If that's what it took to get her stubborn partner to talk to her.

Nick hadn't answered a single call all day. Nor had he checked in with anybody at work. At this point, Judy had gone past cheesed off and was hovering somewhere between hurt and concerned. Had she upset him that much? Even if she had, he still couldn't go radio silent like this. He was a police officer. What if something happened to him? How was she supposed to know so she could go help?

What if something had happened already?

She shook her head, making her ears swing. No, no, no. Distraction. She needed a distraction.

Reaching into her coat, she pulled out the files Clawhauser had been kind enough to put together at her request. It contained everything the ZPD could find on Carol Hopson and Robin Swift, which, considering how thin the files were, didn't seem to be much.

She opened Carol's first. There was a photo of her from her younger years, late twenties to early thirties. She had been a smaller bunny with brown and white speckled fur and floppy ears. A picture of her son Peter had also been included. He looked around thirteen or fourteen, judging by his height and the mulish expression on his face. His fur was a darker brown with less white spots, but he had the same floppy ears as his mother.

There was actually more information in the file on Peter than on Carol. Peter had a whole laundry list of recorded fights, both in school and out of it. In contrast, Carol had nothing on record besides the passing of her husband—who had died in an accidental grease fire at their restaurant—and one small article in the paper for winning a vegetable pie cooking contest. That was it.

Judy flipped to Robin Swift's file. It was only one page long, and that page was mostly blank. Parents deceased. One younger sister, unnamed. No priors or records of anything at all, good or bad. Either he was a _very_ good citizen or was very good at being secretly bad.

She looked at his picture. He was a good looking fox. Tall, with bright red fur and a clean white muzzle and throat. He had an easy, welcoming smile and a guileless expression that would have been believable if not for the sharp intelligence shining from those brown eyes. And then there was his tail, which was nice and all, but not quite as big and fluffy as Ni—

Judy slapped the file shut, face hot. Clearly, there was nothing helpful in there.

She set both files aside. Maybe she could rest while she waited for Nick? She tried leaning back against the steps, but they were too hard and cold and she gave up after only a few minutes.

She checked the clock on her phone. It was past twelve now. Surely Nick had to turn up soon?

A noise came from her left. It sounded almost like a mouse sneezing. Judy whipped her head around at the same time she felt a sharp sting in her neck. She slapped her paw over it, feeling something small and cylindrical with a fluffy end. She yanked the object out, staring at it.

A… dart?

Adrenaline hit her system at the same time the drug did. Judy lurched to her feet, but a rush of vertigo sent her tumbling down the steps. She righted herself with difficulty, squinting into the darkness where she had heard the shot. Someone was moving around in the shadows, but they were well hidden and shapes were starting to take on an amorphous quality. She couldn't trust that what she was seeing was her assailant and not simply a garbage can gone liquidy.

Pulling out her walkie, she ran as fast as her balance would allow. The world felt off-filter, like everything was trying to tip to the left, and her limbs were fast growing heavy; each step was an effort. But if she could just make it to a main street, the proximity of so many witnesses should deter whoever was after her. She just had to keep going... keep going... keep... going...

There was something else, too. Something she was forgetting. Judy shook her head, trying to clear it of the drug fogging up her mind. It made her wobble, and when she threw out a paw she remembered—Ah! That's right. Her walkie.

It felt like lifting a brick.

"C-Clawhauser, come in. _Clawhauser_."

"What's _hop_ -pening, li'l bunny?" came the cheetah's cheerful voice a moment later.

"Clawhauser, I've been… shot with a... a tranquilizer dart. I'm on Pack Street. I'm heading toward…" But she couldn't read the sign she staggered past. She couldn't see much of anything now besides blurry darkness. And she couldn't remember which way she had run. North? East?

_Doesn't matter. Stay focused._

"Be-being pursu'… need backup…"

Shuffling came from behind her. Clawhauser said something, but it was little more than white noise to her now. The shuffling was gaining. Judy realized she wasn't going to make it. She was—

Someone pushed her from behind, just a little nudge between her shoulder blades. That was all it took to send her sprawling.

Judy hit the curb and rolled onto her back. She lay there, breathing hard and feeling too heavy to pick herself up. Even the terror of being caught by whoever was after her was draining away.

She was so _tired_.

She felt more than saw her pursuer lean over her. She curled up around the walkie, using every last sense remaining her to keep her paw on the call button, though for the life of her she couldn’t think of anything to say. Someone was still yelling things at her in a crackly, tinny voice and that was annoying.

Why was she bothering with this again?

The animal circled around her, sniffling. Judy blinked, struggling to focus on it. "Mo'l…"

They grabbed the walkie. Judy kicked out, but her foot did little more than twitch. "Le'go…"

One hard tug and Judy released it, too weak to keep hold, too tired to care. Already it was a lot quieter and that was nice. If they wanted the walkie so badly then they could have it. If it would get them to let her sleep…

It did.

Judy slept.


	4. Chapter 4

Nick was in a foul mood by the time he returned to the station that night. He had found nothing. No leads, no possible suspects—besides the Corsacs, who seemed determined to make themselves look as guilty as possible. Had no one taught them anything? If you were going to break the law, there were certain rules you had to follow, including avoiding security cameras and not announcing your plans to your intended target. As a fox and con artist— _former_ con artist—Nick found their incompetence insulting.

He dodged around a tiger officer, Tony, who was standing in the middle of the room for no discernible reason that Nick could see. Nick bit back a sarcastic comment about daydreaming in inappropriate places, turned and almost smacked into yet another officer, Furson, who had also frozen in place, staring off towards the front desk.

"What is going on here? Have you all turned into sloths or what?" quipped Nick, but his levity died as he noticed how quiet it was.

Usually the lobby was one of the livelier sections of the ZPD, with constant chatter echoing off the vaulted ceiling and animals rushing every which way. But now there was only silence smothered by tension. More than half a dozen animals stood scattered around the room, as if they had all been on their way to somewhere and suddenly just… stopped.

A few heads turned toward him, and the concern he saw on their faces when they realized it was him had Nick's hackles rising. If there was any look he hated more than disgust, it was pity.

"What? What is it?"

He followed the sightline of the other animals. All eyes were trained on the reception desk, specifically Clawhauser, who was looking panicked and holding his radio receiver in both paws.

Nick was just about to demand for a third time that _someone_ better tell him what was going on when there was a crackle of static, and then a voice— _"Be-being pursu'… need backup…"_

Nick's heart froze inside his chest. That was _Judy_. Her words were slow and slightly slurred, like the time she had gotten tipsy after work and tried to impersonate Flash, but there was nothing funny about it this time.

"Officer Hopps?" Clawhauser was twisting dials, his nose pressed so close to the speaker that his whiskers were bent. "Judy? Come in, Judy—"

Nick didn't remember moving. The next thing he knew, he was leaping onto the desk, claws scratching the laminate as he found purchase. "What's going on? What is happening to Judy? Where is she?"

Clawhauser shook his head, flinching when a dial he was fiddling with gave a blast of static. "I-I don't know. She said she was shot with a tranquilizer dart somewhere over on Pack Street. Don't you live around there? I can't get her to answer when I—Judy!"

Judy was being attacked outside of Nick's apartment? But why? And by who? Who in Zootopia would want to attack Judy?

"She's not answering," said Clawhauser, mashing buttons. "Why isn't she answering? It says her walkie's still transmitting—"

_"Mo'l…"_ Her voice was quiet, no more than a whisper. Some weak scrabbling noises and then, _"Le'go…"_

The line went silent.

"Officer Hopps? Judy?"

"Who was working with her? Call them," ordered Nick.

"She was off the clock. There wasn't anyone... Judy? Come in, Judy." But no matter what buttons Clawhauser pressed or how loud he cranked the volume, there was only silence.

The cheetah slumped in his seat. "Dead."

He meant the walkie's signal, but Nick's stomach still plummeted and he forgot how to breath.

By some unspoken command, the animals in the room stirred back to life. It looked like everyone was on fast forward now. Orders were barked, officers ran to get partners, someone loped off to find Chief Bogo. Clawhauser rallied with much sniffling and began calling other officers who might be in the area.

And still Judy didn't appear, smiling, with a shouted, "Gotcha!"

As if she was even capable of playing a prank so cruel.

Nick pulled out his phone and stared at it.

That’s right. He had turned it off.

He turned it back on, and when it still didn't ring, he dialed, the pads of his paws feeling numb. There was no answer. Judy had never not answered his call before.

_It's okay. She's just angry. Another minute and then—_

Nick squeezed his phone until his paw shook. _No_. Denial wouldn't save Judy. He had to be stronger than this, pull himself together and—

"Francine and McHorn should be on their way back from Tundratown," Clawhauser was saying. "I'm going to radio them and see if they'll be able to—Officer Wilde? Nick, wait!"

But Nick didn't wait. He lunged from the counter, hit the ground on a roll and raced for the exit, dodging the paws that reached out to stop him. He had to get over there, had to get to Judy before—

_Too late. You're too late. She's already—_

_No._

If only he had answered his phone today. If only he had apologized. But he hadn't, and for what? To prove a point? Because he was frustrated? Hurt? Scared? Judy was his partner. No matter what, he should have been there for her. He should have had her back. If he'd had, she would've been safe. Now she was caught, hurt, or worse—

_No. Not that. Not Judy._

Their squad car was parked in its usual spot in the ZPD garage. Judy must have used it sometime during the day, because her scent was all over the upholstery, mixed with the smell of air freshener and some type of lettuce wrap she must've had for lunch.

Nick had to take a moment to block it all out: Her scent, the thought of her eating in here all alone, trying to call him, wondering, worried…

Tires squealed as he peeled out of the garage, siren blasting.

His walkie crackled. It was Clawhauser. "Officer Wilde, you need to come back to the station. Chief Bogo's been contacted. He's calling every available officer in for an emergency meeting."

Nick shook his head before he realized Clawhauser couldn't see him. "I'm not available."

"At least wait until I can get you backup. Francine and McHorn said they can be there in ten minutes—"

"I'll be there in five."

"You can't be rash about this. You don't even know what's going on, or who's out there—"

Nick fought the urge to snarl. " _Judy's_ out there!"

"Nick…"

He turned the walkie off. Let them write him up for it later. _After_ he had found his partner.

Pack Street was empty when he arrived. Nick leapt from the squad car, not bothering to turn off the engine. The headlights cut through the shadows of the street, but they didn't reveal anything helpful. There was no sign of anyone. No mystery kidnappers waiting to attack. No fallen bunnies waiting to be rescued.

Several sheets of paper were scattered over the apartment steps. Nick drew closer, half-afraid of what he might find. A ransom note? But no, they were pages from a police file. Judy must have brought them with her.

Checking again to make sure there was no one around, Nick stooped to read what he could without disturbing the area—the c _rime scene._ The papers were strewn about, but he managed to pick out three names: Carol Hopson, Peter Hopson, and Robin Swift. Two bunnies and a fox. He had never heard of any of them.

_You would have if you had answered Judy's call._

A second squad car raced up, brakes screeching. Officer Francine and Officer McHorn burst out.

"I've got the fox!" shouted Francine, running for Nick and putting herself between him and the rest of the street while Officer McHorn charged off to make a sweep of the area.

"You good there, Wilde?" asked Francine.

The answer was no, he was not good. Between the guilt eating at his insides like ravenous mice and the fear of what could be happening to his partner at this very second, Nick was so far from _good_ that he didn't know where to begin.

But that wasn't what Francine was asking him and Nick knew it, so he forced a nod, rose, and stepped out from behind her. Francine stopped him with her trunk. "Hang on. McHorn hasn't given us the all clear yet."

Nick pushed her away. ”It's fine. And anyway, I was told that it was rude to use an elephant as cover."

Instead of letting him go, Francine shoved back. Nick blinked up at her, startled. She glared down at him. "Well I'm _not_ an elephant; I'm a police officer, same as you. And if you want to find your partner you better start acting like it, Wilde. because this reckless behavior of yours is only going to get you killed, and then who's going to find Hopps?"

"I…"

"Clear." McHorn stomped back over to them. "No one around. There's a broken walkie down the street a ways. We'll have to get forensics over here to check it out, along with those papers." He gestured to Judy's spilled files.

Francine pointed her trunk up at the apartment building. "Almost every window on this side would've had a perfect view of what happened. Maybe a tenant saw something. I'll have someone come do some questioning."

"I'll go call it in, then."

"Sounds good." Francine looked at the fox. "You heard Hopp's call. Did she mention anything that we could use? Anything at all?"

Nick shook his head. He still didn't understand why this had happened in the first place. Had it been the Corsacs? But they had been so inept so far he couldn't imagine them getting the drop on Judy besides maybe through sheer, dumb luck. Plus, he and Judy had only been on the case for a day. Could word have gotten back to the foxes so quickly?

Maybe it was someone else not even related to the case. It had happened outside of _his_ apartment. Was whoever took Judy trying to get to him? Nick couldn't say he had many friends, but he knew even fewer animals who might want to take this kind of revenge on him. There was no one besides Mr. Big who would even…

Renewed terror gripped him. This type of kidnapping was exactly Mr. Big's style, and Judy never had been as wary of him as she should be. If Kevin or Raymond drove up, they might very well have gotten off a shot before Judy thought to suspect anything. And then all Mr. Big had to do was wait for Nick to come running.

Nick couldn't think of what he might've done to get on Mr. Big's bad side. He hadn't seen him since officially joining the ZPD. Judy had spoken with his daughter Fru Fru a few times, but other than that…

Still, it was a possibility he couldn't overlook. If that shrew was responsible for taking Judy…

Nick ducked under Francine's trunk and ran for the squad car. "I've got to go."

"What? Where? Don't you want to wait for forensics?"

"You wait," said Nick, diving into the driver's seat. "Let me know if they find anything."

He doubted they would.

"But where are you going?"

"Tundratown." Nick had his own questioning to do.

* * *

Judy woke to the sound of arguing.

"And _I_ am telling _you_ that we are not paying." The voice was clear and ringing, and pierced right through the heart of the headache pounding through Judy's skull.

Judy twitched and tried to turn away from the noise, wanting more than anything to go back to sleep. But her legs and arms were strapped down and her muscles protested the attempted movement with warning twinges of pain.

She relaxed and let her head droop.

"Look, I did my job," a second voice said, this one sounding like the speaker had swallowed a bunch of gravel and gotten it stuck in their throat. "Why are you being so picky about this?"

" _Picky?_ We told you to bring the fox. Instead you kidnapped the ZPD's precious bunny cop. They are _never_ going to let this go now."

"Don't talk like that, Mary," said a third voice, and Judy was relieved that at least this one didn't make her head feel like it was going to split open. It was smooth and deep, and sounded as exhausted as Judy felt. "We'll figure something out. Don't worry."

"Listen to your brother, fox," said the gravely voice. "Now tell her to pay me so I can get out of here. Fox dens give me the creeps."

Someone growled. Judy imagined Nick, lips pulled back into a snarl as he prepared to attack... But—no, that had been an act. And Nick wasn't here. Was he? No. He was... somewhere. She couldn't remember exactly where. It felt like someone had filled her head with wool, stuffing and stuffing until she was full to bursting and couldn't think past it.

"Don't get tetchy with me, fox. I did as you asked. I went to the apartment. _This_ was who was at the apartment."

"And if it had been a mail hound, would you have taken _them_? I thought you said your eyesight wouldn't be a problem."

There was a hiss. "It's not."

"Then how could you think a _bunny_ was the same as a fox?"

"Hey, it wasn't my fault."

"It's completely your fault! We showed you the picture—" There was the sound of rustling. "Look. Right here. This was who we wanted you to get, see? Fox, not bunny. _Fox_."

"The scent on the card was hers. Can I help it if she smells kinda like…"

Judy's nose twitched. She did _not_ smell.

If only she could go back to sleep, she could get away from these too-loud voices and the nausea that was growing with each painful throb of her head. 

Unfortunately, even if her body wanted to tap out, her mind was clearing, albeit slowly, making connections and worrying itself back into proper awareness. 

"M'wake," slurred Judy, forcing her head up and her eyes open.

Five blurry pairs of eyes stared back at her.

Judy blinked a few times, struggling to focus on them. The four Corsac foxes and her kidnapper—a mole, imagine that—all standing there in front of her.

_Well this is convenient_ , thought Judy. Now if only she could get herself untied and summon up some energy, she might actually be able to make some arrests tonight. _Was_ it still night?

She looked around for a window—or at least, as much as she could without moving her head—but even from what little she could make out she knew she wouldn’t find one.

She was in a medium-sized room made up of a dirt floor, dirt walls, and a dirt ceiling, with tunnels leading off in every direction. It was not unlike the burrows she and her siblings use to dig as kids when they wanted a hideout. 

Underground then, definitely no windows. And judging by the dank air and slightly muddy consistency of the earth, somewhere near the Rainforest District. That was… not good.

There wasn't much in the room in way of furniture. A couple of cots against one corner and crate that smelled like vegetables gone to rot. A small wood table with four duffel bags piled on top of it. Judy was tied to the only chair.

Marian looked towards her brothers. “Oh no, she's awake. Now what do we do?"

The one Judy recognized as Reynard shrugged, looking almost bored. The youngest one, Todd, hovered behind him, shoulders tucked up around his ears as if he could shrink into invisibility if he just tried hard enough. Craven was the only one who seemed to be seriously considering the question.

"I could drug her again," suggested the mole.

"Could we do that?" asked Todd, voice high and hopeful.

"No, we can't," snapped Marian, turning to the mole. "That dosage was enough to bring down a fully grown fox, and you used it on a tiny little bunny. You're lucky it didn't kill her."

“Hey, I’m not _that_ little," said Judy. When everyone looked her way, she decided this was as good a place as any to jump into the conversation. "But I would appreciate it if you didn't drug me again. I'd much rather talk. What do you say?" 

She tried to give them her best smile, the one that said she was a helpful, friendly cop, not scary at all. Being a bunny, that was usually all it took. But her head felt like mashed carrot and she had to clench of her teeth against a particularly violent wave of nausea.

Judging by their expressions, it ruined the effect a bit.

"Maybe it wouldn't hurt to tell her?" asked Todd.

"She's a _bunny_ and a _cop_ ," said Reynard. "She couldn't be a worse animal to talk to."

"Don't be silly," said Judy. "I'm the perfect animal to talk to. You wanted Nick because he's a police officer and a fox, am I right? You knew he'd be sympathetic. Well, you're probably not aware of this, but Nick and I are partners. And more importantly, best friends."

Reynard snorted. "If you think we're that gullible…"

"It's the truth. You can even look it up. Ah... do you get phone service down here? I know in Bunnyburrow it was nearly impossible to get anything reliable, but I wouldn't be surprised if even underground Zootopia had..." She trailed off. They were staring again. Judy cleared her throat. "Sorry. Not important. But it's true that Nick and I are close. I'm the one who convinced him to join the ZPD in the first place. He even mentioned it in an interview he gave Musk Rat magazine."

"See? the bunny's lending an ear," said the mole. "Sounds like a happy ending to me. _Now_ can I have my money?"

Marian silenced him with a glare. She looked down at the card in her hand and it took Judy a second to recognize it as one of Nick's business cards. It was pretty beat up, with multiple crease marks and a red stain near his phone number. Marian toyed with a ragged edge as she debated.

Craven stepped forward. Judy noticed that he was still favoring his right leg.

"I don't think it can hurt us at this point to tell her, Mary," he said.

When Marian still looked torn, Judy chimed in with an eager, "Yes, please, explain it to me,” and nodded encouragingly, immediately regretting the action when her vision whited out for a moment and her stomach rolled.

"Well, I guess..." said Marian, "It started after Carol's funeral.”

"Your godmother, right?" said Judy. "I'm so sorry to hear about her passing, by the way. She sounded like an amazing bunny."

"Thank you, we—" Marian cocked her head. "How did you know she was our godmother?”

“Well when I went by your restaurant earlier there were these two bunnies who—"

"You went to our restaurant? Why?"

"As part of my investiga—ah… that is…"

"You're _investigating_ us?" Alarm sent the fox's voice up a pitch, and Judy winced.

The mole, who had been inching his way over to the stack of bags, rolled his eyes with a muttered, "For the love of roots and pebbles."

"I told you that pompous bunny would go to the ZPD," said Reynard. "It was only a matter of time."

"It's not like that!" said Judy. "I want to help you. Really! I wasn't lying. If you would just explain—"

"Explain?" cried Marian. "As if you would believe us. Some dirty foxes, against the word of a rich bunny? Ha!"

Judy looked over at Craven, but even he was eyeing her with doubt now. 

"Trust me. Please. You already have me here. Give me a shot."

" _Or,_ I could give her a different kind of shot and we can try this again," offered the mole, holding up the dart gun.

Marian looked ill at that. Todd whined; Reynard put a paw on his shoulder.

Underneath all the nausea and pain, Judy felt the first real licks of fear. Despite her words to the contrary, she didn't like her odds of surviving another dose of the drug, especially when the first one was still wreaking such havoc on her system.

"I don't…" stammered Marian, looking at her brothers. Craven was scowling at the mole, but he wasn't saying no either.

"If I might propose a third option?"

Todd gave a startled yip; Judy jerked in her seat.

A raccoon appeared from one of the tunnels. She hadn't even heard him creep in.

"Hello, all." The raccoon smiled at them, delicate paws folded politely in front of him. "Mind if I join you?"

* * *

At least Judy getting herself chosen as godmother for Mr. Big's granddaughter had one perk. When Nick showed up outside the front gate of Mr. Big's estate, the shrew's henchman Raymond appeared to escort him across the grounds. Escort, not carry by the scruff of the neck.

Even though it was almost three in the morning, Raymond led him around back to a private lanai that was styled like something out of a poster for a vacation package that was at least 40 degrees south of Tundratown’s intended latitude. 

Cream-colored stone textured like sand made up the floor and wall columns. Reinforced windows soared overhead, giving a perfect view of the frozen night—black, bleak, and beautiful.

Palms doted the room in giant planters, decorated with twinkling firefly lights. Since it had to be below freezing, Nick wasn’t sure how they were keeping the trees alive.

A polar bear-sized pool chilled to perfect arctic temperature stretched from one side of the enclosure to the other, lit from below with soft blue and green lights and tiled with a mosaic of a school of fish.

Next to the pool sat a white marble table, on top of which was an exact copy of the lanai in perfect miniature, complete with pool and impossibly tiny lights. Mr. Big lounged there on a cushion chaise, in full formal suit and tie.

“Strange time to be working on your tan,“ said Nick by way of greeting. 

Mr. Big waved a tiny paw at the full white orb above them. "I like the moonlight. It soothes me."

"Your milkman didn't happen to be a wolf by any chance, did he?"

A long-suffering sigh. "What brings you here tonight, Nick?"

"I'm looking for Judy."

"She should be with you, should she not?"

"She should be, but she isn't. Where is she?"

"I haven't the faintest."

"Don't joke."

"On the contrary, the only one who can't seem to stop making jokes here is you.”

Nick slammed a paw down onto the marble table, making all the tiny furniture rattle and the pool water slosh. Raymond, who had been standing  watch behind Nick, grabbed him by the back of his collar and hauled him away.

"I thought the three of us had an agreement," snapped Nick. "If that's changed we deserve a warning before you make a move on us! So release Judy, wherever you're keeping her, and then we can discuss this."

Mr. Big raised one bushy eyebrow. "I do not like this tone of yours, Nicky. You used to show more respect."

“Release her _please_.”

The shrew and fox stared at each other. From the pool came a click and then a hum as some pump or other turned on. It sent ripples through the water and made the fish seem to undulate in unison, giving the illusion of life. If Mr. Big ordered his henchman to throw Nick into the pool, the fox knew it would be just as effective as an icing.

Finally, the shrew relaxed back in his seat. "Officer Hopps is not here. This is the truth."

"You really don't have her?”

"As you said, we have an arrangement. And I wold never hurt my granddaughter's godmother. Not unless it was absolutely unavoidable."

Nick wanted to feel relief at that. But if anything, he felt even more scared now. Judy might be safe from Mr. Big's tiny yet powerful clutches, but it only meant that she was still out there somewhere. And Nick was officially out of leads. He couldn't afford to hit another dead end.

Mr. Big tugged at the cuffs of his suit. "Now that we have that straightened out, why don't you tell me what has happened."

Raymond released Nick, but kept one mighty paw on the fox's shoulder, just in case. Nick swallowed. "Judy was kidnapped."

"So I have gathered. What do you know about the kidnapping?"

"It was outside of my apartment. And they used a tranquilizer dart."

"This is all you know?" Mr. Big made an unimpressed noise. Nick thought back. But there was really nothing else except… but Judy had been so far gone by then, he couldn't be sure. He said it anyway.

"At one point she said... it sounded kind of like mo'l..."

"You think it was a mole that took her?"

"Maybe. Do you know any that might fit the bill?"

"Hmm…" Mr. Big tapped a tiny claw against his vested belly. "I might. There's a secret network of animals for hire. They do small jobs mostly, unless you have enough dough to make the risk of more worthwhile."

"And you know of a mole involved in this?"

"Don't look at me like that, Nick. It's not from personal history, trust me. I never outsource. Things tend to get… messy, that way. Best to keep work in the family, yes?" Mr. Big waved to a shadowed area of the lanai. Koslov appeared like ghost dressed in black. Nick shivered. He hadn't even scented the polar bear's presence.

The giant bear came to stand by his boss’s side. Mr. Big whispered something to him and Koslov slipped away, as silently as he'd come.

"So are you going to tell me where can I find this mole?" asked Nick.

"No."

When Nick opened his mouth to argue, Mr. Big silenced him with a raised paw. "You think your old ties are just going to open up to you because you ask? You're a cop now, Nick."

" _You've_ been pretty forthcoming."

"I'm an understanding sort. I was proud of you for joining the ZPD, Nicky. You reminded me of a young arctic shrew who just wanted to open up a tuxedo shop and make his grandmama proud. Did you get the flowers I sent?"

Nick shuffled his feet. "I did, yes. Thank you. And I appreciate what you're trying to do. But I can't just wait around. I need to be out there—"

"Even if you go and find a contact willing to talk to you, you were never the type to work with animals that far underground. They would be of no help to you."

"I could find someone," muttered Nick. _Probably_.

Mr. Big ignored that. "Give me twenty-four hours."

"Twenty-four _hours_?” Nick shook his head. “No. I can't wait that long. Anything could happen to Judy by then."

"Patience, Nicky. Twenty-four hours, and I will have your mole."

"And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

Mr. Big resettled in his lounge chair. "You're a cop, aren't you? Be a cop."

"I keep hearing that," grumbled Nick. "But I'm starting to wonder what it actually means."

The shrew smiled. "You're a clever fox. I'm sure you'll figure it out."

* * *

"So. Who would like to make introductions?"

At the sound of the raccoon's voice, the mole looked up from where he had been poking around the duffel bags, nose sniffing at the air. "Ray? Is that you?"

The raccoon beamed. "Mo! My number one burrow demon! What's happening?"

"Do you two work together?" asked Judy. She glanced over at the Corsacs, but they also looked confused by this development.

"You could say that," said Mo, shuffling over to his friend and holding out a paw for the raccoon to shake. "But what are you doing here, Ray? If you've come to help me catch the fox—"

"Bunny," Marian and Judy corrected simultaneously.

"—Then I'm afraid the job's already been completed."

Marian huffed.

"Actually, I've been following you," said Ray. "I didn't want to interfere until you had completed your mission. It was the least I could do."

"Oh? Well that's kind of you, I guess,” said Mo. "But why did you need to follow me in the first place?" He glanced over at Judy. "You're not here to steal my catch, are you? We have rules about that."

"I know, my friend, do not fret," reassured Ray. "But you are right in that my client hired me with a somewhat _similar_ interest in mind.” He nodded toward the Corsacs. Judy didn't think the mole noticed such a tiny movement, but he seemed to put the pieces together anyway with help from Marian, who started to growl.

"You were hired to kidnap my clients?"

“I was. Small world, right?"

"Wait. Just—wait a second," said Judy, as Reynard stepped in front of Todd and started nudging him towards the nearest tunnel. "Nobody is kidnapping anyone. Ah, else. This is all getting out of hand."

"I agree," said Mo. "And while I can't say I remember ever hearing about a specific rule for this, it doesn't seem the done thing now, does it?"

"I agree it's unprecedented," said Ray. "But I was offered a killing for them. I couldn't turn it down."

"But they haven't even paid me yet!"

"If it's any consolation, I will be sure to search their pockets once I have them."

Marian and Craven starting backing up. Realizing that talking wasn't going to work, Judy began struggling in earnest with her bindings. Every jerk sent a throb of pain through her skull.

"I appreciate the offer," said Mo. "I guess that's all I can really ask for." To the Corsacs, he said, "You'll probably want to start running now."

The foxes turned and fled. Ray slapped Mo on the shoulder with a cheerful, "Call you later, buddy!" and took off after them.

"What are you doing?" Judy shouted at Mo. "You can't just let him do this. Go after him! Stop him!"

The mole sniffed. "I'm not going to mess up Ray's job. That would be rude."

"Then untie me, at least!"

"And ruin all my hard work? It wasn't easy getting you here, you know. And what if the foxes escape and come back for you?"

"You think they will?"

Mo thought about it. "No. But still, it's the principle of the thing."

Selecting a duffel bag from off the table as if it were a party favor, the mole slung it over his shoulder and waved to the empty space to Judy's right. "Bye-bye, bunny. It was nice working with you."

"You didn't work with—wait!" But he disappeared down another tunnel, leaving Judy alone.

Yips and snarls echoed from out of the tunnel. The Corsacs hadn't gotten far.

Bracing herself, Judy threw her body to the left, then the to right. Left, right. Her brain felt like it was sloshing around her skull, each impact stunning in how much it hurt. She breathed in through her teeth and kept going.

The chair skidded, wobbled, rocked, lifted onto two legs, and then, finally, tipped sideways onto the ground. Judy's head knocked against muddy dirt with a wet _whap,_ and the jolt was all it took for Judy to finally lose the battle with her stomach. 

She groaned and tried to roll away, but couldn't. Frankly, passing out would have come as a welcomed relief right then.

If only.

Another sharp yelp came from the tunnel. Judy struggled to pull herself together. The Corsacs needed her.

The ropes tying her to the chair had shifted in the fall. It gave Judy enough slack that she could, after several seconds of wiggling and three tufts of fur, slip free.

She staggered to her feet, hissing when the muscles in her legs seized up in a spectacular pair of cramps. She hobbled into the tunnel after the foxes, using the wall for support. She was still dizzy and off-balance, and her stomach gurgled in a way that said another revolt was imminent if she didn't take care.

Luckily, she didn't have far to go. Up ahead, two figures struggled in the darkness. It looked like Craven had stayed behind, blocking Ray from further pursuit, and the raccoon was not happy about it.

Ray lunged, claws slashing, and caught Craven full in the chest. Together they smashed against the wall, rolling to the ground in a muddy tangle. Craven had more weight behind him, but he was injured and the raccoon had skills.

Judy started forward. She needed to break up this fight. Now. But instead of mud, her foot splashed down into water.

_What the…?_

Judy hopped back, startled. She squinted through the darkness at the tunnel floor, which, upon closer inspection, looked flooded by several inches of water.

_Rainforest District…_

Judy looked back up at the two scuffling animals, alarmed. Craven had managed to pin Ray against the wall, and the raccoon was scrabbling at the mud, trying to find enough purchase to throw the fox off. Water ran in muddy rivulets around him, faster and harder the more he twisted and clawed.

"Stop! You have to stop!" said Judy, her voice reverberating through the tunnel. Craven looked over at the sound of her shout, and that was all the opening Ray needed to squirm free and pounce.

Craven's injured leg gave way and he collapsed against the wall with a grunt. Water sprayed. It hit Ray full in the face, knocking him back, and Craven followed after as the tunnel wall burst. 

Water rushed in with roar.

Judy had just enough time to take one last breath before the water engulfed her and she was swept away into blackness.


	5. Chapter 5

In an attempt to follow Francine's and Mr. Big's advice, Nick left the estate and drove back to the police station. He might have been tempted to ignore both of them, except that the shrew had been right. Nick knew of no one else who would a) help him, or b) worked sketchy enough jobs that they would be in a position to make useful inquiries.

On the way, he called Clawhauser and asked him to make copies of the files Judy had requested, the originals currently being checked out by forensics. Maybe something in those files had led to Judy's kidnapping, or would give Nick a better idea of where he might start his search while he waited for Mr. Big to get back to him.

His radio crackled. "Officer Howle to the ZPD. We've got a partial collapsed road in the Rainforest District near Marshland. Lots of odd flooding. Possibly a busted water main.”

Clawhauser’s voice responded. ”ZPD to Officer Howle. Any casualties?"

"None so far. Got a shook up capybara family and an okapi with a possible broken leg."

"Understood. We’ve got an RFD ambulance on their way to you now."

Marshland. That wasn't too far from his apartment. Nick suppressed the urge to go investigate. It was just a coincidence. He couldn't get sidetracked by gut feelings again. He was a cop. He had to stay focused. He had to find _facts_.

He had crossed back over into Downtown and was turning onto Lionheart Ave when the radio crackled again. "Officer Howle to the ZPD. We've found a tunnel. Looks like we got some unlicensed burrowing going on in a restricted land zone. Searching for other tunnels now."

"ZPD to Officer Howle. Sending backup your way. Keep us updated."

Nick snorted. Who was dumb enough to make a burrow in the Rainforest District? You couldn't dig more than a couple meters before hitting water. _Amateurs_.

The ZPD was deserted when Nick arrived, which was no surprise. Everyone not busy with their own cases were either out looking for Judy or on their way to help in the Rainforest District.

"Chief Bogo is leading the search party for Officer Hopps himself," Clawhauser told him. "But they haven't found any tracks so far."

Nick held out a paw and Clawhauser handed him the files, along with a cup of coffee. "To help you stay alert."

Nick accepted the cup gratefully.

Tucking the files under his arm, Nick retreated to the officers' work room. It was empty when he entered. Only half the lights were on, leaving every other desk in shadow. Several computer screens glowed with screensavers featuring the ZPD logo. Desks ran in pairs down the length of the room, with a narrow aisle between them. Windows lined the left side wall, filing cabinets lined the right.

Nick’s desk was near the back of the room, too small to be seen over the others. He had a window view. Judy’s desk was next to his by the filing cabinets. She swore he had gotten lucky with the placement, but considering she had been there several months before him, Nick had his doubts.

He dropped into his seat, careful not to spill his coffee, and looked over at his partner's desk. Everything on it was neatly arranged. When Nick had teased Judy about her OCD tendencies, she had replied that when you have over two hundred siblings, you learned to appreciate organization.

Two framed photographs sat on either side of her computer. One was a panoramic shot of her family; the other was an underexposed picture of her and Nick at Gazelle's concert.

Nick looked at the second photo fondly. Everyone else at the ZPD remembered that night as the time they had gotten to meet Zootopia's beloved singer. Even Nick had enjoyed meeting her, not that he would ever admit as much. Judy was bad enough about making him listen to that pop music as it was. Turned out Gazelle was just as beautiful, talented, and gracious in person as she was in her interviews. But what had made the moment for Nick, was Judy’s surprise-attack selfie with him. Out of nowhere she had tackled-hugged him, slung an arm around his neck, and pressed her cheek to his, telling him, “Say carrots!"

It was only the third time since they'd met that Nick had been able to truly hold her. The first time had been after their reconciliation, and the second time had been the first day Nick had arrived at police headquarters. Judy had leapt at him with an excited, "Welcome to the ZPD, partner!"

After that, nothing. Some playful pushing, a few pokes and paw grabs here and there, but nothing significant. Not until that dance—which he knew now he couldn't risk repeating.

Still, he needed Judy back if he was going to properly torture himself with what could never be.

He needed her back, period.

Nick turned away, taking a big gulp of coffee and burning his tongue. But the pain helped him to focus. He flipped through the files, absorbing every fact, analyzing every detail. But still, he reached the last page without anything jumping out at him. Carol was deceased, Peter was out of the picture, and Swift was so squeaky clean they could have used him for soap.

Frustration spiking, Nick pushed the folder away and pulled up the Corsacs' files. The only connection he could find between them was that the Corsacs and Carol Hopson had both worked at the same restaurant. But what that had to do with anything, Nick couldn't say.

He tossed down the papers and dialed Clawhauser. "Where is Carrots’ daily report?"

"She didn't make one,” said Clawhauser. “Said she got permission from Chief Bogo to leave everything off the record until the case was finished. For privacy reasons or something."

Covering for him, more like. And trying to help the Corsacs, in her own way. Nick hadn't thought he could feel more undeserving of her as a partner, and yet here he was. Worse, her obligation to cover for him had ruined any lead her report might have given him. Knowing Judy had been kidnapped because he hadn't been by her side was killing him, but if this was how he lost her for good—

_No. Stay focused._

"What about this Robin Swift character?” he asked the cheetah. "You got any idea why she might have wanted a file on him?"

"Unfortunately, no. She was very closed-lipped about it."

Nick stared at the fox's picture, trying to get a read on him. Maybe he would visit Swift anyway. Tonight even. Catch him off guard. Judy had looked up his file for a reason. Maybe he'd let the fox explain to him why that was.

From the other room, someone had turned on their radio. Nick finished his coffee as he listened to Officer Howle announce the arrival and departure of the ambulance for the okapi, plus two other animals they had found injured in the interim. A second tunnel was found, and then a third. Definitely an illegal burrow. Criminals were gettin dumber and dumber these days.

Nick's phone rang and he scrambled for it, but it was only Francine calling to tell him that none of the animals who were at the apartment building had heard or seen anything.

"But we did find Hopps’ cell phone in a garbage can around the corner. I'll let you know if we get any prints off it."

"Thanks."

Nick hung up, ears flicking back and forth as he debated. He had half a mind to call Mr. Big and demand that he find the mole faster. Or better yet, let him help with the search and capture. But making the shrew angry wouldn't help anyone, least of all Judy.

So what did that leave?

The radio crackled again. “Officer Howle to the ZPD. Requesting another ambulance. We've got an officer down over here. Repeat, we've found Officer Hopps."

Nick shot out of his seat, sending his chair crashing into the desk behind him.

"ZPD to Officer Howle. What's her status?"

"Unconscious. Found her outside one of the tunnels."

"Sending another ambulance to you now."

From out in the hall came the sound of pounding feet. Clawhauser appeared in the doorway just as Nick was about to barrel through it. 

"Did you hear?"

Yeah. Nick had heard.

They had found Judy.

* * *

 

The drive over was a blur. Nick kept his radio on, but there was no change that they reported.

When he reached the barrier blocking traffic and pedestrians from the collapsed road, he parked and got out. The rainforest's sprinkler system had been temporarily shut off to make it easier for the police to work, but the road and walkways were still half submerged in water. The flashing red and blue lights flickered over the still surface like the strobe lights at a nightclub gone horribly wrong.

An officer in charge of redirecting traffic saw Nick and without a word pointed him farther on.

Nick went.

It was slow going. The mossy ground was slick and the asphalt had been snapped in half in some places. The fault line ran due east for half a mile before dropping off into a sinkhole roughly seven meters deep and fifteen meters across. It had been roped off with police tape. Half a dozen officers and firefighters were carefully picking their way through the dirt and mud, looking for both evidence and possible victims.

An officer looked up, spotted Nick, and like the last one, pointed to the other side of the sinkhole where another fault line picked up, this one angled south.

Nick followed it.

Eventually, it dipped down an embankment, leaving the road for marshy outland. Floodlights had been set up around the tunnel's entrance, which was still churning out a steady flow of muddy water. Specially rigged hoses had been laid out to suck up the excess water, but the ground was still soggy underfoot as Nick picked his way over.

Officer Howle looked up from where he had been watching a moose firefighter laying out another hose when he saw Nick approaching. "Officer Wilde—"

"Where is she?"

The wolf's ears drooped. He gestured toward one of the floodlights, beyond which a tiger officer, Selene, hovered over a small, still form stretched out on the ground.

 _Judy_.

Nick slipped and slid his way over to her, no longer bothering to take care of his steps. There was a ringing in his ears and his lungs felt tight, like he couldn't take a proper breath.

He fell to his knees beside the small form, splattering mud everywhere. When he reached out a paw, Selene stopped him. "Try not to touch her. We don't know yet if she has any injuries that we can't see."

Right. There could be spinal injuries, internal bleeding… 

Breathing became even harder.

"Where are the medics?"

"I've been told an ambulance has arrived on scene over by the west exit. They should be here any minute."

Nick nodded, not taking his eyes off Judy. She was such a force of nature that he forgot sometimes how small she actually was. How breakable.

Selene had laid her jacket over the bunny to try and keep her warm. The sleeves alone were twice as long as Judy. She was soaking wet and muddy, and when Nick leaned close, he could smell the faintest hint of sickness on her breath. But she was alive, her breathing unlabored, and when he reached out to carefully check her pulse—earning a warning look from the tiger—her heartbeat was sure and strong. In comparison, his own felt much more erratic.

Shouts rang out. From the top of the embankment a crew of EMT's appeared carrying a small stretcher. Selene rose to go help them.

_Thank goodness._

Nick turned back to Judy—and sucked in a breath. His partner's eyes were open and she was watching him with a solemn, half-focused expression that worried him. He couldn't tell if she was thinking about all the ways in which he had failed her as a partner or if she just had to sneeze.

"Judy?"

She blinked, so slowly her lids actually stayed lowered for several seconds before lifting again. Then she sighed, a deep, satisfied sound, and smiled at him. 

" _There_ you are," she said, and the relief in her voice shamed Nick all over again. "Who said you could jus' disappear like that, huh?" 

Behind the slurred reprimand was a teasing note, and Nick latched onto it like a lifeline. With forced casualness he replied, "You're one to talk. You gave us all a quite a scare there, Carrots."

"I was…" She had to pause and think about it. "Drugged."

Leaning close, Nick mock-whispered, "I think someone's still a little drugged."

"Was looking…" Her lids fluttered closed. She forced them back open. "Looking for you."

Guilt struck a one-two punch to his midsection. "I know, Carrots. But I'm here now and I'm not going to let—"

"No." She shook her head, then winced. Nick started to reach for her before remembering that he shouldn't touch her.

"Try not to move," he told her. "The paramedics are almost here."

"Jus' a lil' headache," said Judy. "Nick, listen. The Corsacs..."

Nick cut her off. "Don't worry about the Corsacs right now, okay? Once we get you all fixed up then we can—"

"You don't understand. Nick, I _saw_ them. They were talking about the kidnapping."

"Wait, what do you mean you _saw_ them?" Sick suspicion filled Nick's stomach. He glanced over at the EMT's. They had reached the bottom the embankment and were now making their way over. Lowering his voice, he asked Judy, "Did the Corsacs do this to you, Carrots?"

Big purple eyes stared up at him, beseeching. "That's… I mean… It's complicated."

Which wasn't a no.

Nick rocked back on his heels. He couldn't believe it. After everything he had done to defend them, the Corsacs had gone and done this? To his partner? And to Zootopia? Maybe everyone had been right. Maybe he _had_ been acting too much like a fox and not enough like a cop.

Well, that ended now.

While the EMT's checked Judy over, Nick went and found Officer Howle. The wolves normally stoic expression was filled with concern. "Wilde. How's Hopps?"

"Nothing some rest and a little carrot soup won't cure," Nick said lightly. "Listen, about the animals who did this... They're foxes, Howle. Four of them. Called the Corsacs."

The wolf's gaze sharpened with interest. ”How do you know?"

"Because Judy and I have been tracking them all day. They're wanted on several other charges too."

"Are they the ones who took Hopps?"

Nick hesitated. The ZPD didn't take kindly to those who hurt one of their own. They _would_ hunt the Corsacs down if he told them they were responsible for what had happened to Judy.

He glanced over at his partner. An EMT was shining a penlight into her eyes, checking for signs of concussion. Two others were positioning the stretcher, getting ready to move her.

Nick looked at Howle and nodded.

The wolf took out his walkie. "Understood. I'll let Chief Bogo know who we need to be looking for."

"I'll email you a copy of my files on them."

"Appreciate it."

Judy was carefully lifted onto the stretcher and the EMT's began carrying her back to the ambulance. Nick gave a mock salute to Officer Howle and followed after them.

One EMT, a mountain goat with pink safety caps on the tips of his horns, saw him and slowed. "We were told Officer Hopps was found outside one of the flooded tunnels. Do you know if she was breathing when she was found? Did anyone have to administer CPR?"

"Not that I know of," said Nick. "Why?"

"We're worried about her lack of responsiveness. Has she spoken at all since you arrived?"

"A little."

"Was it lucid?"

"Mostly," said Nick. "But then she was also hit with a tranquiler dart."

The mountain goat made a note on his clipboard.

"Is there something I should be concerned about?" asked Nick.

"The fact that she's clearly conscious but unresponsive is a bad sign. She may very well have some brain damage due to an extended period without oxygen."

"I see."

Nick picked up his pace, falling into step beside the stretcher. Judy's eyes were closed, her brow pinched into a frown. The EMT's were asking her questions—Did she hurt anywhere? Had she consumed anything?—but she wasn't answering them.

Nick leaned in close. Judy's nose twitched.

"Should I take a picture of you to commemorate your dramatic escape?" Nick whispered to her.

One baleful eye squinted open. "Not'less you want m'to buy more fox spray."

Nick fought a smile. "Vicious bunny. You have to stay awake and answer these nice medics' questions, okay?"

"M'tired."

"Yeah, but if you don't speak, they're going to think something is wrong with you. They don't know you're just a really surly patient like I do."

"Am not."

"Remember that time you got a cold? You bit my head off over soup."

"S'cause you ruined it."

"How do you know? You couldn't even taste properly."

"Mph." She closed her eyes.

"Answer their questions, Carrots. Or this all goes up on EweTube."

More irritated nose twitching. Judy took a shuddering breath in, and then— "Didn't eat. Headache. Throat 'urts. Dizzy. I… got sick." Her expression turned embarrassed. She peeked up at Nick. "Please don’t put this on EweTube."

"I am a fox of my word." And Nick didn't want any more memories of this horrible night that he did already.

They finally reached the ambulance. Nick waited until Judy was safely onboard, then doubled-back to follow in his police car. On the way he called Judy's parents. He had never spoken to Bonnie and Stu Hopps directly before, though he had listened to Judy's phone calls with them countless times over the past year and had been prompted to say hello once or twice. Between his partner's stories and the photographs he'd seen of them, the Hopps struck Nick as your stereotypical bunny couple—Sweet, well-meaning but overly anxious, with an adept hand at farming and way too many kids. How Judy had sprung up so differently from them all he had no idea, but he was grateful for it.

Because of the late hour, it took the Hopps a while to answer. And also because of the late hour, her mother's voice when she finally picked up was already worried.

Nick introduced himself and made sure to preface his news with assurances that Judy was fine. She was safe. The hospital crew was doing a great job taking care of her. _But_ —

"Something happened that you should know about…"

* * *

Despite Nick's threats, Judy fell asleep on the way to the hospital.

The next time she woke, she was in a bed with rails surrounded by blue plastic curtains. The air smelled like antiseptic. Machines beeped and hummed behind her head. She had been changed into a crinkly paper gown and the worst of the mud had been wiped from her fur, but she still felt filthy and her mouth tasted like sour cotton balls.

She tried to sleep, but it was fitful. Nurses, doctors, and medical technicians kept popping in to take x-rays or blood samples or ask her how she was feeling.

"Tired," she snapped the fifth time someone asked, a cute little pig doctor who looked quite taken aback at Judy's tone.

"Well your tests have all come back negative," she told Judy. "No concussion, no water in your lungs. You're very lucky."

Judy perked up at that. "So I can go home now?"

"Oh no. We want to keep you a couple days for observation. You had a very high amount of tranquilizer in your system. Though you should be past the danger period, we really need to keep watch for—"

The curtain slid back and Nick popped his head in. "There you are, Carrots. Did you pass all your tests? What am I saying? An overachiever like you, of course you did."

"Her tests all came back fine," said the doctor. "But as I was attempting to explain to Ms. Hopps, she really should remain here a few days more—"

"I can't stay," said Judy. "There's too much going on right now. And I'm fine. You said so yourself. Just some scraps and bruises."

"Really, this isn't something you should just shrug off," said the doctor. She looked imploringly at Nick.

So did Judy.

Nick sighed and rolled his eyes.

He turned to the doctor. “Sorry, but you heard my partner. She wants out of here now.”

"But she shouldn't be up—“

"Noted. But I, for one, am too tired to argue with her, and she'd only win in the end anyway."

Judy beamed. The pig's expression was a lot less happy. But she seemed to accept the futility of trying to change their minds. She sighed and pushed through the curtains. "I'll be back with the discharge papers then."

"Sounds good."

When she was gone, Judy turned to Nick. "Thank you."

"Of course. By the way, here." He tossed something at her. It landed on Judy's lap, making her jump. "A get well present."

Judy picked it up, confused. "It's a wax carrot."

"Yeah. Thought your apartment could use a little decoration. You like dust collectors, right?"

"Where did you even get this?"

“Hospital gift shop. It's crazy the things you find in there nowadays, isn't it?"

He took a seat on the stool next to her bed and hooked an arm over the guard rail. "Just a heads up, I called your parents. Expect a visit tomorrow—or, possibly later today." He checked his phone. "Six a.m.. How the night flies, huh?"

"Were they okay?"

"Oh yeah. I think they secretly wanted an excuse to visit, if I'm being honest."

"I'm sure." Judy looked at him, taking in the droop of his ears and downturned mouth. "Are _you_ okay?"

"Me? I'm fine."

"I'm sorry if I made you worry."

"I wasn't worried."

She watched him pick up the remote control for the bed and play with it. She fiddled with the carrot. "Nick…"

"How about we skip the hospital paperwork tonight, huh?"

Judy blinked at the sudden change in topic. "What? How?"

"Like this." He pressed a button on the remote. Her bed began to lower itself with a quiet whir the vibrated through the mattress. He pressed a second button and the guard rail folded down into a side pocket.

Judy chewed on her lip. As badly as she wanted out, it didn't seem right to leave without waiting for the doctor. "I don't know if we should..."

"Trust me, we should."

"But... I still need to wait for them to bring a wheel chair. I'm too tired to walk all the way to the—" Nick scooped her up into his arms, cutting Judy's words off with a gasp.

"Keep hold of that the carrot now," he warned her. "It's bad luck to lose a get-well present."

Judy clutched the waxy piece of fruit close, her free paw reaching out to grab at Nick's shirt. The fabric was stiff with dried mud and the fur above his collar was damp where he had tried to wash off, most likely in one of the restrooms while she'd been getting poked and prodded and x-rayed.

"You could have gone home," she told him, unable to look away from that pale stripe of fur. "You didn't have to stay here all night."

She felt the slight lift and fall as he shrugged. "The night was mostly over anyways. Plus, you made me your emergency contact, and I take that responsibility _very_ seriously." His tone was sarcastic, but yet here he was, covered in mud and clearly exhausted, ready to whisk her away because she wished for it.

She glanced up and saw that he was watching her, his normally bright green eyes shadowed by all the hospital lights. "Ready, partner?"

She could feel his heart pounding where her paw rested against his chest, and her own picked up its pace to match it. She tightened her grip on the wax carrot. "Ready."

He burst through the curtains at a sprint, holding Judy tight in his arms. No one tried to stop them, though they got a few disapproving looks from the nurses sitting at the nurse's station.

When they reached the end of the hall Nick took the corner at a slide, nearly running into a giraffe who was wearing the longest neck brace Judy had ever seen. And maybe it was exhaustion, or the tranquilizer, or relief at being back with Nick, both of them safe and sound, but the sight startled Judy into a laugh, and once she started she found that she couldn't stop.

Nick grinned, dodging around the giraffe and picking up speed. He raced with Judy right out the front doors of the hospital and across the parking lot dappled in the yellow glow of the streetlights, not slowing until they reached the police cruiser.

He helped Judy get settled into the passenger's seat. Her paper gown was a crinkled mess, but there was no help for it. She did her best to tug it back into some sort of decency while Nick rounded the hood of the car and slid in behind the wheel. 

"All buckled in there, Carrots?" he asked, and at her nod, started the engine. "All right then. Time to get you home."

* * *

The earliest commuters had already started to clog the streets by the time they made their way Downtown, but Judy didn’t mind. The car was warm and quiet, the engine a gentle rumble against her seat, and the stress of the night was finally beginning to ebb, leaving room for a more peaceful sort of exhaustion that Judy welcomed.

"Nick, about the Corsacs…" She told him about the raccoon showing up and chasing them off, finishing around a yawn, "We need to find them before Ray does."

Nick flicked on his turn signal and passed a couple slow-moving cars. "You're not looking for anyone until after you get some rest. The ZPD is out searching for the Corsacs now. If they find anything, we'll hear about it."

"The ZPD knows about the Corsacs? Since when?"

"Since they crossed the line and kidnapped a cop. Not to mention caused hundreds of thousands of dollars in destruction of public property and injury to several civilians." Nick shook his head. "Impossible to protect them now."

He was right, of course. Still, regret poked at Judy. Maybe if she had handled it better, things wouldn’t have turned out this way. "Nick, I'm sorry. I know you wanted—"

"There's nothing to apologize for, Carrots. You were right. I was wrong about them. I saw only what I wanted to, and it almost got you killed."

"That's not true."

"No?"

"No. You couldn't have known they would go after me like that." Judy smiled without humor. "Actually, they weren't even after me. They were trying to get to you."

"Me?"

"Because you're a fox. They thought you would listen." Judy let her head fall back against the headrest. "They didn't trust me at all. They wouldn't tell me anything."

"Well as they've already proven, they're pretty dumb criminals."

Judy shook her head. "No, they were right not to trust me. I _am_ investigating them. And I _was_ doubtful."

"With good reason," said Nick. He pulled up to a red light and stopped. He looked over at her. "I should have listened to you about them sooner."

"You had good points too," argued Judy. "And I think you're right. They're not just terrible criminals that are doing this for no reason. They're scared. Something is driving them."

"Doesn't matter."

"You don't mean that."

"I do. They lost my sympathy the moment I found you lying unconscious in a muddy ditch.”

"The tunnel collapse was an accident. And I'm fine."

"And if you weren't?"

Judy tipped her head back. “So you're mad at them for something that didn't happen?"

"I'm mad at them for something that _could've_ happened."

Judy couldn't help smiling. "But you weren't worried about me."

Nick's jaw worked. The light turned green. He hit the gas.

When he spoke a minute later, his voice was carefully neutral. "Let's just get you rested up, okay? Then we'll find the Corsacs, and the raccoon too if we must, and say good riddance to this case."

Judy didn't think it would be that simple, but she was too tired to say so. She decided to let it go. For now.

At some point she must’ve dozed off, because she woke to the feeling of Nick carrying her up the stairs to her apartment. Nick used the spare key she had given him to get in, and Judy rallied enough to insist on brushing her teeth before going to bed.

"Carrots, don't worry about it. There's no reason to bother—"

"Nicholas Wilde, you can either stay and help me or go home, but one way or another my teeth _will be brushed_."

Nick stayed.

Judy sat on the edge of the tub, struggling to keep her eyes open while Nick got her toothbrush out and squirted toothpaste onto the bristles. She fumbled it twice, but eventually got her mouth cleaned to her satisfaction.

When she was done, Nick had to help her stand, her paper gown crinkling obnoxiously.

Judy glowered down at it. "I need to change."

"Carrots…"

"Top left drawer. Top _left_. Don't open the right one."

Grumbling under his breath about surly patients, Nick did as she bid him. He stopped with his paw on the right drawer handle for the briefest a moment just to get glare out of her, then continued on to the left one and pulled out a cotton tank top and shorts. Judy took the clothes with a murmured thanks, then shooed him out so she could change.

Of course, after changing she decided it would also be a good idea to clean up a bit before getting into bed. Her fur was still caked with mud in several places and she didn't want to sleep in dirty sheets… She would just wipe off a bit at the sink…

She didn't know how much time passed, but the next thing she was conscious of was Nick tugging a washcloth from her limp paw and picking her up off the floor.

When had she decided to lay down?

He carried her to bed, and Judy sighed when her head sunk into the pillow. He tucked the sheets up around her, and then she thought she felt, in the sensitive spot just behind her ear, the briefest sensation of— _something_. But the feeling was gone before she could be sure of what it was, and then she was drifting off, her thoughts melting into pleasant dreams about soft blankets and even softer kisses, and a sly fox who stole both and didn't apologize.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Judy woke to the sound of knocking on her front door.

Pushing up onto an elbow, Judy rubbed sleep from her eyes and looked over at her alarm clock. It was almost three in the afternoon. Late, yet she could have easily gone back to sleep for the rest of the day.

The knocking came again, gentle but insistent. Even half-asleep, Judy recognized that knocking. She'd heard it enough times on early school mornings and after bad days where all she’d wanted to do was hide in her room.

Her parents had arrived.

She rose from bed, grateful when the room didn't spin and all her stomach did was growl. The blaring headache from last night had settled into a low thrum behind her temple. Some aspirin and coffee and she'd be good to go.

She shuffled out into the living room. The curtains to her single set of windows were a cheerful yellow, and with the sun as a backlight they painted the whole living room in a soft golden glow.

She had to hop to reach the cord that opened them. Still, at least she lived in a place that _had_ curtains now. Clawhauser had recently moved into a new apartment a few blocks down and had managed to convince the landlord to pass his lease on to Judy. It still wasn't as nice as Nick's place, and all the furniture was too big because it had been designed for a medium sized predator and not a small bunny, but it was better than the apartment she’d used to lived in. And as a bonus, it smelled like doughnuts and her bed was huge.

Nick was sprawled on the couch, snoring softly. One arm had been thrown across his eyes. The other hung over the side of the couch, dangling above his walkie and cell phone. Judy took both and placed them on the coffee table before giving her partner’s shoulder a shake.

"Nick. Nick, wake up."

"Wassit—" Green eyes blinked up at her from under his arm. "Carrots? You should still be resting."

"I think rest time has officially ended," said Judy. She nodded towards the door where voices had now joined the knocking. "My parents are here."

" _You're_ _parents_?" Nick surged to his feet. "But—I'm—" He looked down at his filthy clothes, which had not improved with having been slept in. His gaze shot to the window.

"Don't even think about it," said Judy. "This is the ninth floor."

"There's a fire escape."

She rolled her eyes. "I've been wanting to properly introduce you to my parents for forever anyway. Might as well do it now."

" _Or_ , I could hide and we can put this off for a whole 'nother year if we're lucky."

"Oh, stop it. They're going to love you."

"Judy?" Her mother's voice sounded worried. "Judy, are you in there?"

"I'm coming, Mom. Just a second." To Nick, she whispered, "Relax. And try to smile."

"So I can hear your parents say, ‘ _My, what big teeth you have?_ '"

"That's wolves. And they're not going to—"

"Judy, honey?" It was her dad this time.

"Don't rush her, Stu. She said she was coming."

"I'm just asking. Can’t hurt to ask again, can it?”

Judy opened the door and watched as relief lit her parents' faces. They pulled her in their arms and Judy sunk into the dual embrace. Though she adored her life in Zootopia and couldn't imagine ever giving it up, she did miss her family. Phone calls and face time were just not the same as seeing them in person like this.

Eventually they pulled far enough away to look her over. Though all of the bruises she had sustained were hidden by her fur, somehow her parents sill seemed to be able to sense where they were, poking and rubbing in just the right spots to make Judy wince, their wordless noises of concern more effective than any guilt trip.

"Are you sure you shouldn't be in the hospital?" asked Stu.

"No, Dad. I promise, I'm fine. Just a little sore."

"Well we brought you some food," said Bonnie. She gestured to her husband, who held up a basket of vegetables almost big as he was. "You better eat all of it, too. None of that frozen stuff until you're healthy again."

"I'm healthy now," said Judy, but at her mother's frown she promised, "I won't let it go to waste."

She gestured to Nick, who had hung back while she’d greeted her parents. He ambled over, his earlier nervousness locked up tight behind his failsafe persona of smooth confidence man, complete with the cocky smirk. Judy would have preferred him to be more himself, but at least he wasn’t making a break for the fire escape.

"Mom, Dad, this is Nick. My partner."

Her parents exchanged looks. Judy waited, unbothered by their moment of silent communication. It was something they had done all her life. Their way of checking each other's opinions to make sure they were both on the same page before responding.

But Nick saw the looks, too. And Judy could tell, even though his easy expression didn't change, that he was interpreting her parents' silence as a rejection.

She reached over and caught his paw in her own, ignoring the pinprick of hurt she felt when he flinched.

"Let go, Carrots." The words were forced through clenched teeth. He tried to pull free, but Judy tightened her grip, replying matter-of-factly, "No."

"You're scaring your parents."

By touching him? Please. Maybe if they'd never made peace of Gideon Grey, but they had. And her parents had learned, just like she had, that you couldn't judge an animal based on stereotypes, or even past behavior. Besides, she worked for the ZPD now. This "risk" wouldn't even rate.

She leaned into him. "They're fine. Just give them a second."

"Hopps..."

But that was as far as he got before her parents finished their wordless talk. They turned to Nick, who immediately went rigid, raising his chin another inch. Despite the cocky gesture, worry showed in his eyes. To Judy, he looked more like a fox preparing to take a blow.

Bonnie smiled at him and took his free paw in her own. "Officer Wilde. You're the one who called us last night. It is so good to finally meet you. Judy talks about you so often I feel like we've already met."

"Thank you for looking out for her," said Stu. "We know she can be a handful."

" _Dad_."

There was a beat as Nick absorbed this. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "It's, ah, my pleasure. Sir."

Stu patted him on the chest. Dirt broke off in flakes and everyone watched as they fluttered to the floor.

Nick cleared his throat self-consciously. "Sorry about that. It's been a long night."

"We understand," said Bonnie.

"We're farmers," said Stu. "A little dirt doesn't _scare_ us."

Judy looked sharply at her father. He winked.

"I—" Nick glanced at Judy. "I'm relieved to hear that, sir."

"Oh, and we have something for you," said Bonnie. She handed him an envelope. Inside was a yellow card with a bunch of cutely drawn bunnies dancing around a vegetable patch. "It's an invitation to Bunnyburrow's Carrot Day Festival. It’s in the spring. You should come! It'll be fun, and our Judy here could use somebody who can give her decent competition in the games. No one else can keep up with her."

Stu chuckled. "She annihilated in the sack race last year."

"I did not! Don't listen to them," Judy told Nick. "They're exaggerating."

"Oh, well..." Nick scratched at his ear. "I'm not exactly a _sack race_ kind of fox.”

"The winner gets three free blueberry pies."

He quickly took the card. ”So spring, you said?"

Judy smiled, surprised and pleased that her mother had remembered her mentioning Nick's fondness for the sweet, blue fruit.

From the coffee table, Nick's phone started to ring. Excusing himself, he went to answer it.

"Clawhauser, what's—" Nick glanced sharply at Judy. "Yeah, she's awake. When… No. No, we'll be right over. Yeah. Talk to you later."

"What is it?" asked Judy.

Nick pocketed the phone and reached for his walkie. “They found Craven Corsac. He's in the ICU. Looks like he wasn't as good a swimmer as you were."

"Oh my goodness," said Bonnie. "I hope he's okay."

"We need to get over there," said Judy.

"Yeah." Nick looked down at his muddy clothes and then at Judy in her pajamas. "Meet you at the station in an hour?"

"Sounds good."

Nick started to leave, then stopped. He turned back to her parents. He hesitated, then he held out a paw. "It was nice meeting both of you."

"And you," said Bonnie as Stu took his paw and shook it. "Be careful out there."

Nick gave her a lopsided smile. "I'll try."

"I'll walk you out," said Judy.

Nick held the door for her. Once they were in the hall, Judy checked to make sure none of her snoopier neighbors were about before turning to her partner, who waited with a bemused expression. "What's up, Carrots?"

"Two things, actually. First, I wanted to say thank you. For last night."

Nick made a face. "Please don't. I hardly did anything. I wasn't even there for—"

Judy cut him off. "You were there exactly when I needed you to be, Nick. Believe me."

"If you say so."

"I do." Judy was tempted to take his paw again. Partly because he looked so uncomfortable and partly because… well, she just wanted to.

But she refrained.

Instead, she continued. "As for the second thing... please keep an eye out for the Corsacs. They were after you, remember, even if they accidentally got me instead. They might try again."

"I think they're too busy hiding from the ZPD and whoever that raccoon is to have time for me," said Nick.

"Still."

"Still, I'll be careful," agreed Nick

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He cocked his head. "So is that it? Are we finished with the touchy-feely moment now? Am I free to go? You know there _is_ a case still going on here that we should be investigating…"

_Annoying fox_. Judy turned on her heel and stomped back inside, shutting the door on her partner's smirking face. Still, she could hear him through the wood as he said, "I'll meet you at the station, Carrots. One hour. You better wait for me!"

"What a nice young fox," said her mother.

"He has his moments," mumbled Judy. "I have to get ready for work," she told her parents. "But please feel free to stay. Take a nap. You must be tired after that long trip. Or go do some sightseeing if you’re feeling up to it. I would say we could do dinner, but I don't know how late I'll be…"

"Oh, don't worry about us, honey," said Stu. "We'll be fine."

Judy hugged them again, just because she could, then hurried off to go wash up and change.

As she was digging through her closet for a clean uniform, she could hear her parents puttering around in the kitchen, cleaning and putting away the vegetables they'd brought her. Judy rolled her eyes in fond exasperation. They couldn't stop working even when they were off the farm.

"Honey, look at this!" her father exclaimed. "This carrot's made of _wax_."

Judy poked her head out of her bedroom. "It's a get well present from Nick," she told him.

"Well what good is a wax carrot gonna do ya? You can't get nutrients just by _looking_ at it."

"Maybe he thought it would make her feel better," said her mother.

"You know what would make me feel better? A vegetable I could actually eat."

" _Stu_."

"Just saying." Her father turned the carrot over. " _Product of the Cottontail Corporation_. Isn't that that brand we're always seeing in the grocery store?"

"I told you that food wasn't healthy," whispered Bonnie. "Talk about a preservative."

"Let me see that," said Judy.

Her father handed the carrot over. He was right. The name Cottontail was clearly stamped in tiny print on the side. Well, that answered the question of where Nick had been yesterday.

_I knew the gift shop didn't sell wax carrots._

She put the carrot away in her nightstand drawer for safekeeping, then made sure her parents were settled before heading out.

She reached the station ahead of Nick, but didn't make it any farther than the reception desk. When her partner finally came in, she was still there, reassuring a teary-eyed Clawhauser that she was all right.

Nick stopped in front of the desk and raised an eyebrow. "Clawhauser. You've got a little something… right there." Nick pointed to where the cheetah had Judy smooshed up under his chin.

"What? Oh, sorry." Clawhauser released her, looking chagrined. Judy patted his arm and hopped down, landing lightly next to her partner, who was looking much cleaner than he had an hour ago. His fur was damp from a shower and he had forgone a full uniform and instead just wore a pair of navy slacks and a light blue button down shirt. And because that apparently wasn’t casual enough, he had rolled up the sleeves and left the top two buttons undone. No tie, of course.

Nick gave her a once over as well. "How are we feeling?"

Judy smiled brightly and struck a pose, hands on hips, chest puffed out. "Back and ready for action!"

"Is that so?" He held up a small bakery box. The smell of fresh bread and fruit jelly wafted up, making Judy's empty stomach growl.

"I thought you might need some food," he told her. "For energy."

Eyes lighting, Judy reached for the box.

Nick pulled it away before she could take it, adding, "However, it looks like you're already good to go. So I'll just eat this myself, I guess, and you can—"

Judy made a grab for the box. Nick whisked it out of her reach, tsking. "Really, Carrots. Where are your manners?"

"That should be my line," said Judy. She leapt again.

Again, Nick pulled it away.

Okay, time to change tactics.

Hunching over, Judy bowed her head, rubbing her temples and groaning. "Oh, my head. Oh, it hurts…"

Nick shook his head, eyes twinkling. "Shameless."

She added a cough. " _A-hack_ … All that marsh water… _A-hack, a-hack_ …"

"I've thought it before," said Nick. "but you're acting is just beyond the pale. Really. Where did you pick up such skills?"

"I took theater in primary school."

"That explains it."

Judy shot him a mock glare. "Do you mind? I'm choking here."

"Oh, please, by all means.” Nick gestured for her to continue.

" _A-hack, a-hack_ … can't breathe… need danish…"

"Mm, that's not how you fix choking."

"What are you… _a-hack_ … a doctor?"

"Wilde. Hopps."

They turned. Chief Bogo stood behind them, looking as grumpy as ever. Judy immediately dropped her sick act.

"Let me guess," said Nick. "Your office?"

"For your sake, I hope your skills of deduction prove similarly competent when it comes to this case," said their boss. "Follow me."

Nick sighed. "Now the fun starts."

Handing Judy the bakery box, he ushered her ahead him with a nudge to the back. "After you, Carrots."

"Why do I have to go first?"

"Because you just survived a kidnapping and a flood. He's not going to gore _you_."

"And if you're wrong?"

"You can bribe him with breakfast."

Judy clutched the sweet smelling bakery box to her chest. "Never."

"Well then I guess I'll be walking out of that office either with a partner or with breakfast. Sounds like a win-win to me."

"Just for that, I am not sharing with you."

"Spiteful bunny."

When it came to life and breakfast foods? Darn straight, she was.

* * *

Judy ate the danish on the way, just in case. Nick, surprisingly enough, didn't even try to steal a piece.

They took a seat in one of the chairs in front of Chief Bogo's desk, the now-empty bakery box between them. Chief Bogo turned his computer screen around so Judy and Nick could see. It was the home page for the Daily Heron. In giant, bold font it read:

 

_DANGEROUS COLLAPSE IN RAINFOREST DISTRICT!_

_COULD YOUR DISTRICT BE NEXT?_

 

"This was the headline of the paper this morning," he told them.

"Well it's properly dramatic, I'll give them that," said Nick.

"It's ridiculous," said Judy. "What exactly are they trying to imply?"

"Read it," said Chief Bogo.

 

_Late last night the Rainforest District was rocked by tragedy when three miles of marshland unexpectedly collapsed, flooding roadways and causing several serious injuries. Hundreds of commuters were stranded for over four hours while police and road crew worked to clear the way of debris—and even bodies._

 

Judy looked at Chief Bogo. "When they say bodies…"

"Presumably they mean you and Craven Corsac. No one else was found, unconscious or otherwise.”

"They make it sound like we died."

"Keep reading."

 

_So far four suspects have been released: Marian Corsac, Craven Corsac, Reynard Corsac, and one unnamed minor. All foxes. Craven Corsac was found on site and is currently under watch at the Rainforest District Hospital. His status has not been officially released, but witnesses say he was last seen being wheeled into the ICU._

 

"How is Craven?" Judy asked.

"Still in critical condition," said Bogo. "I hope you weren't relying on him for answers."

Judy rubbed at her temples as her headache gave an extra painful throb. She had forgotten to take something before leaving her apartment and all the little aches from yesterday were starting to make themselves felt. The stress of this article wasn’t helping.

Nick made an angry noise in the back of his throat. When Judy looked over at him, he pointed to a paragraph farther down in the article. He looked disgusted.

 

_The ZPD has little to say on the matter so far, but they do admit that the cause of all this damage comes from the collapse of an illegal burrow similar to the smuggler tunnels found two years ago in the outskirts of the Sahara. While speculation points to this being another smuggling case, one has to wonder why these criminals would choose the Rainforest District over one of the more arid parts of Zootopia where burrows can be dug without risk of collapse. That is, if it is another simple case of smuggling and not something more insidious. Citizens great and small are well aware that the entire lower level of the Rainforest District is a flood zone. With a few tunnels and a small amount of explosive, an animal could take out everything but the Rainforest's canopy._

 

"This article makes it sound like they're planning attacks!" Judy turned to Bogo. "Chief, these foxes, the Corsacs... sure, they've broken a few laws, but—"

"A _few_ laws? So far they're wanted for breaking and entering, destruction of public property, burrowing in a class 5 restricted zone, inciting a panic, assault, kidnapping, resisting arrest—have I missed anything?"

"But they're not terrorists," said Judy.

She looked to her partner for backup, but he was studying at the ceiling as if it had just insulted him and he was contemplating how he could take revenge on it.

”Nick. Tell him."

"Sure. They've also been witnessed making threats to Benjamin Cottontail. I have a copy of the statement."

Judy glared at him. "Not helpful."

"Oh, you wanted me to _help_ you. Okay, well, hm." He pretended to think about it. "I'll give you that they're probably not terrorists."

"Thank y—"

"Because their actions show a complete lack of forethought that's almost scary. Really, it's anyone's guess what they'll try next. But I can guarantee that it'll be poorly thought out and probably cause a lot of problems for all of us." He folded his arms and looked at Judy. "There. Helpful enough?"

Judy was tempted to take the bakery box and hit him with it. "Why are you being like this? You're not still angry at them, are you?"

"The facts speak for themselves. Isn't that what you said before?"

"And I told you last night that I was wrong."

"Well you weren't. Take the win, Carrots. You earned it."

"That's not—"

" _Enough_ ," snapped Chief Bogo. He turned his computer screen back around. "I don't have the time or the patience to listen to you two bicker about this. I have a meeting with Mayor Lionheart in an hour where I will have to _personally_ assure him that the ZPD has everything under control, which he will then be relaying to all of the citizens of Zootopia tonight on the evening news. So the only answer I want from you two right now is this— _do you have things under control?_ "

Judy hopped up and saluted. "Sir, we will find the Corsacs and you will see that all of this is just a big misunderstanding."

Chief Bogo looked at her partner.

"We'll get them," promised Nick.

"Then you're dismissed."

Nick scooped up the bakery box and left. Judy started to follow after him but was called back by Chief Bogo. "Hopps."

"Yes, sir?"

He tossed her a new walkie and her cell phone. "Glad to see you're all right."

"You are?" said Judy, surprised and oddly touched. "I mean, thank you, sir. That really means a lot coming from—"

He waved her off. "Yeah-yeah-yeah, just get out of here, Hopps. I've got an argument with the Mayor to plan for."

"Yes, sir." Judy hurried out.

She caught up to Nick in the hallway as he was tossing the bakery box into a nearby garbage can.

"What was that in there?" she demanded. "It's like you _want_ the Corsacs to go to jail."

He gave her a tired look and kept walking. Judy fell into step beside him.

"Look," he said. "We both agree that we need to find the Corsacs and bring them in. That's all that matters, right?"

"Wrong. We need to be on the same page on this."

"You mean you want me to agree with your opinion."

"I'm trying to get you to agree to your _own_ opinion, you stubborn fox."

"Well my opinion's changed."

"Because of what happened to me?"

"Because I realized that I needed to start acting like a real cop."

That threw Judy. She flung out an arm, forcing him to stop. "Whoa-whoa-whoa, wait a second. What are you talking about? You are a real cop."

"You're right, I am. So it's time I start acting like it, don't you think?"

"Nick, what exactly is going on with—"

"Hopps?" Francine stuck her trunk out of the officer's work room. "I thought I heard you out here. It's good to see you back safe."

"Thank you."

"You have a visitor. He's waiting at your desk."

"Really? Who is it?"

"Don't know. Some fancy bunny in a suit."

"Cottontail?"

"This day just keeps getting better and better,” muttered Nick.

With a warning look at her partner, Judy ducked into the room. Cottontail was indeed standing next to her desk, holding a giant bouquet of Persian clover. With his long straight ears and pale gold fur, he looked like he should be hopping around an enchanted forest somewhere.

"Flowers too," said Francine. "Your boyfriend, Hopps?"

"No. A client."

"Well you're _client_ looks awfully anxious to see you."

"I think I need more coffee," said Nick, backing up from the doorway.

"Where are you going?" said Judy. "He's your client too."

"Somehow I don't think Cottonbutt will mind if I'm not here. Let me know when you're ready to go, Hopps."

" _Wait_ —Nick, get back here. _Nick_."

But he kept going, disappearing around the corner without so much as a glance back.

"What is going on with him lately?" Judy wondered. She looked up at Francine. "Do you know?"

The elephant held up her trunk. " _Oh_ no. I make it a point to never get involved in other partners' problems."

"Officer Hopps? Is that you?" Cottontail had spotted her.

Wishing she could sneak away as easily as Nick, Judy pasted on a polite smile and join the other bunny at her desk. "Mr. Cottontail! What a surprise to see you here."

"Ben, please." He handed her the clover. "For you."

"Oh, um, thank you."

"I'm so relieved to see that you're all right. When I heard about what had happened… and who was responsible… I just—well, I feared the worst."

"I'm fine," said Judy. "Really. In fact, I should be apologizing to you. I know how much you wanted to keep this matter private. But due to, well, obvious circumstances, we were forced to make the case public."

Cottontail waved off her apology. "Please. I understand completely. Do not worry about it. I’m just glad that you're safe."

“Oh. Well, that's a relief to hear." The clover was tickling her chin. There really was an awful lot of it. Judy laid it down on her desk. "I admit I thought you might be more upset."

"Of course not," said Cottontail. "There really was no help for it. They brought it on themselves, even when we tried so hard to help them. It's unfortunate, but what can you do?"

"Lots of things, I'm hoping," said Judy. "I still plan on ending this happily if at all possible."

"Really? How wonderful! I knew I was right in coming to you. And I hear that you have one of them in custody already? That's really something. I hope he's okay. I was led to believe his injuries were quite severe."

"Yes," said Judy. “But we're optimistic he will make a full recovery." At least, she _wanted_ to be.

"What a relief." Cottontail held out his paw. "Well, I guess I better let you get back on the case then."

"Yes. Thank you for stopping by. And for the clover. It's lovely."

"Consider it a get well gift."

Judy thought of the wax carrot Nick had given her and smiled. Between clover and silly fake vegetables, she knew which one she preferred—even if she suspected the later had been swiped off of some _fancy bunny_ 's desk in a fit of spite.

Or was it jealousy?

Just the thought made Judy want to laugh, but not in a happy way. Nick, jealous? Over _her_? What a ridiculous idea. Nick cared about her, she knew that he did. But to imagine it was anything more than friendship was just asking for heartbreak, and Judy was _not_ a dumb bunny; she knew better. Nick's attitude stemmed from his dislike of Cottontail and his frustration with the case. Nothing more, nothing less.

And she was okay with that. Whatever these feelings for him were that kept bubbling up, she would deal with them. She would pop them one by one if she had to. And then she would move on and everything would be fine. _She_ would be fine. And their relationship would be...

“—All right?"

Judy blinked. Cottontail was watching her with concern. "I'm sorry. Did you say something?"

"I asked if you were all right. You looked a little..."

"I'm fine," said Judy. "Just tired from last night."

"You shouldn't neglect your health."

"Rest can wait. The case can't."

"It's good that you're so dedicated, but you should also know your limits."

"Well when I find one," said Judy, "I'll be sure to stop and say hi."

When Cottontail frowned, Judy shook her head apologetically. "Sorry, bad joke."

"That's quite all right. And please know that I find your commitment admirable, Officer Hopps. Truly, I do. I just worry about you."

"That's nice of you. But really, there's no need," said Judy.

"Nevertheless, please remember that you are welcome to call me anytime. For anything."

It only sounded like a proposition to Judy because Francine had put the thought into her head. If only he hadn't given her _so much_ clover.

Cottontail left after that. As soon as he was gone, Judy went in search of her partner.

She found him in the break room talking to Officer Howle.

Instead of going over, Judy found herself pausing in the doorway to watch them. Or, really, to watch Nick.

Even if she couldn’t give in to any of these feelings, that didn’t mean she couldn’t… _appreciate_ them in the meantime, did it?

Nick saw her and wrapped up his conversation with the wolf. He loped over to her, no sign of the strange mood that had sent him running off in the first place.

In his paw was an envelope. Judy nodded to it. "What's in there?"

"Pictures. Howle was telling me that they dug up some duffel bags from the collapsed burrow site. Three of them."

"I think I remember seeing them when I was down there. What did they find inside?"

"That's just it." Nick handed her the envelope. "They expected to find valuables. You know, money, expensive jewelry, stolen items. Instead it's all junk. The Corsac's junk as far as they can tell."

"Junk?" Judy pulled out the pictures. All of the items had been laid out on a table and photographed from different angles. There were framed photographs of Carol Hopson, an old quilt, a stuffed fox doll, a dress several decades out of date…

"See?" said Nick. "Worthless. All of it."

"Not worthless," Judy disagreed, looking through the shots a second time. "I'm guessing all of this stuff had a lot of sentimental value for them."

“Really, Carrots?”

"Well, look at it. It's all items only the owners would find important, right?"

"Maybe. But it's not exactly what criminals take on the run now, is it? I mean, there's no money, no change of clothes—that dress does not count. There's not even snacks for the road."

"But the Corsacs weren't on the run," said Judy. "Not then. They didn't even know the ZPD was out looking for them until I told them about it. I suppose they could've been preparing for it, but again—"

"Who takes framed photographs with them?" finished Nick. "You're right. And I don't know about you, but they haven't struck me as the type to plan ahead."

"No." Judy stopped on the picture of the fox toy. Like everything else, it looked old and worn. Well-loved, her mother would say. Stuffing was coming from the seams and the nose looked close to falling off. As a child, she'd had a similar bunny doll that had eventually gotten passed down to a sibling. "So what does that leave?"

Nick shrugged. "Got me. Maybe they're a family of kleptomaniacs?"

"Somehow I don't think that's it."

A sudden thought struck Judy. She stuffed the photos back into the envelope and handed it over to him. "But I might know someone we can ask."

"Let me guess: Robin Swift."

She grinned at him. "You read my mind."

"I read your files."

"Does that mean you're up for a little ride?"

Nick pulled the car keys from his pocket. "Don't you mean _drive_?"

"Nope." She smiled and held out her paw. "I meant _ride_."

Her partner rolled his eyes and dropped the keys into her palm.

"No lecture that I should be resting?" asked Judy.

"What would be the point?" said Nick. "Besides, you have more energy after a near-death experience than I do after a full night's sleep. I trust you."

Judy eyed him. "You want to nap on the way, don't you?"

"Carrots, I'm insulted. The thought never even crossed my mind. But now that you mention it, it might be a good idea to rest up while I can. You'll keep the radio down, right?"

He started off down the hall. Judy shook her head and started after him, but stopped when she adjusted her grip on the keys and something small and plastic fell out onto the floor.

She bent to pick it up. It was a medicine packet for one dose of aspirin. Nick must have slipped it to her when he'd given her the keys.

"You coming, Carrots?"

Nick cared. It was enough. She would make it be enough.

"Yeah." She pocketed the packet of pills. "Yeah, I'm coming."


	7. Chapter 7

Robin Swift lived a short distance away from Edible Greens, on a street that had probably started out as residential but had become more and more commercial as the city grew and businesses spread. Nick and Judy passed a converted house that was now a salon called Bo's Shearing and a diner named The Honeypot that boasted all day breakfast. Across the street stretched an enormous apartment complex. A sign on the lawn read: JOIN THE HERD! TEN BEDROOM APARTMENTS NOW AVAILABLE.

The GPS beeped to let them know they had arrived. Judy slowed to a stop.

She gasped. "It's beautiful."

"It's an empty lot," said Nick.

"Well, yes, that too."

Woods filled the space. It was impossible to tell how far back it went. At least a dozen giant oaks cast dappled shadows across the grass. Several were so huge that they had to be over two hundred years old. In each spot of sun where the light had managed to break through grew patches of wildflowers with tiny purple and yellow buds.

Judy pulled over and they got out.

"Is this a park?" wondered Judy. "Why would a park be listed under Swift's address?"

"Because clearly he's a lot better at this game then his girlfriend is," said Nick, kicking at a clump of weeds, expression surly. "Could we not find _one_ person connected to this case who isn't a con artist?"

"You think we're being hustled?" Judy looked around. "I don't know. Maybe we should search the grounds."

"What's the point? Face it, Carrots. He got us."

"But this place isn't listed as a park on the GPS. And there are no benches, or trails, or even a sign telling us were to go. What kind of park is that?"

"You're assuming it is a park. For all we know it could just be some overgrown patch of land that nobody wants."

"In Zootopia? Doubtful." Even apartments in Little Rodentia cost and arm and a leg, whether or not you could actually fit an arm or a leg inside any of the buildings.

"And it's not overgrown." She gestured to the neatly trimmed edging around the trees, the plucked weeds, a small pile of broken branches that had been gathered up and left for kindling. "I grew up in Bunnyborrow. I can tell the difference between landscaping and wild land. This place is being cared for."

"Misplaced tax dollars. The city government probably doesn't even realize it's putting money into the upkeep."

"Now you're just being cynical."

"Doesn't mean I'm wrong."

Judy bit back a retort. She didn't want to argue with him, and more to the point, she didn't want to waste the time.

"Fine. If you're so sure this isn't the place…" She tossed him the car keys. "Go ahead back to the station. See if you can't look up the real address. If you find anything you can call me."

Nick looked down at the keys as if she had handed him rotten vegetables. "And leave you here all alone? No. Not happening."

"I'll be fine," she told him. "You said yourself that it's just an empty lot."

"Forget it. I'm not leaving you."

Judy ignored the way his words made her heart flutter. He was just feeling overprotective because of what had happened to her yesterday, the sweet, silly fox.

Keeping her expression nonchalant, she shrugged and start towards the trees. "Fine. Then in we go."

From behind her came a great sigh. She smothered a grin and kept going.

A moment later, Nick fell into step beside her. "What makes you so sure this is the place?"

"Consider it a feeling."

That almost got a smile out of him. "Fine. But if this turns out to be nothing, dinner's on you tonight."

"Deal."

They made their way into the trees. Branches thick with leaves closed over them, blocking out most of the sunlight besides a stray beam here or there. Little white butterflies fluttered in small swarms between flower patches. It almost felt like they had left Zootopia and crossed over into the Wildlands beyond. Only the distant sounds of traffic gave away the illusion.

"If this place isn't a park, it really should be," said Judy. "Whoever the landscaper is, they have talent."

Nick made a noncommittal noise.

"You don't think this place is charming?"

"I just have this feeling… What did Robin Swift do for a living again?"

"His file didn't say." Judy looked around. "Why? You think he might be around?"

"I don't know… But there's something…"

"Well _something_ is what we want to find, right? Oh, look there! Water lilies!" Catching Nick by the paw, Judy tugged him over to a large pond partially hidden by a copse of smaller trees and bushes. Sunlight sparkled over the top of the water like flecks of gold, disturbed only by the occasional fish swimming up to snap at the gnats that flitted over the pond's surface.

Judy sighed. "We have ponds in Bunnyburrow, but not as pretty as this one."

"Feeling homesick because your parents came?"

How did he always read her so easily? "Maybe a little."

"You could go back with them once this is over, you know. Take a little vacation."

"I could." She glanced over at him. "Think you might want to visit with me? I still have to introduce you to the rest of my family."

"And how many more of them are there now? 274?"

"278 now."

Nick's lips twitched. "You bunnies."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"If you want to make a joke, you can go ahead. I won't mind."

"No. I think it's great."

"Uh-huh."

"No, really." He smiled at her, a soft, real smile that got her right behind the heart. "It's good that you have so much family to be there for you. It's an important thing to have."

"You have family too."

"A few cousins and an uncle I never talk to doesn't really count."

_You have me_ , she wanted to say. But she knew such saccharine words wouldn't make it past those sharp and snarky defenses of his. So instead she squeezed his paw, happy when he met her gaze and squeezed back. There had beena time not so very long ago when even such a small gesture sympathy would have been rebuffed.

It was good enough.

From ahead of them came a soft shuffling of leaves. Judy's ears shot up. "Did you hear that?"

She sniffed at the air, but they were unfortunately standing upwind and no scents besides oak, flowers, and pond water stood out to her.

"I don't hear anything," said Nick. "What—"

There was a twanging sound. One Judy recognized a split-second later as that of a bow releasing. She heard the whistle of the arrow as it cut through the air, catching sight of its red feather fletching just before it struck Nick in the stomach with a solid _thunk_.

Red splattered. Nick grunted and doubled over, falling to one knee.

Judy's heart stopped.

"Nick!" she started to reach for him, but stopped with a wary look at the bushes. A second shot might come at any second. She needed to get them behind cover. She needed to catch whoever had fired the arrow and stop them. She needed to help her partner, who was staring down at the shaft protruding from his stomach like he didn't quite know how to react to it. Shock, no doubt. Gut shots were bad. Judy was trying not to think about _how_ bad. But this was an arrow… did that make it better or worse?

She couldn’t worry about that now. She had to get them safe first, then she could assess the damage and call for help. Stepping between him and the bushes she asked, “Can you walk? There’s a copse of trees five meters to your left. If you think you can make it I can cover you until—Nick, are you listening to me?”

He was still staring at the arrow. “I think…” he said, and then to Judy’s horror, he grabbed it by the shaft, ignoring Judy’s horrified, “ _Don’t_!”

He yanked.

The arrow came without resistance. Judy forgot all about the shooter as she lunged for Nick. Her paws went to the wound, ready to apply pressure, to do whatever she had to do to keep this dumb fox alive who would just carelessly pull an arrow from his gut without—

She stopped. His shirt was smeared with red, but there was no hole in the material, no entry wound at all as far as she could see.

What in the world?

Nick held the arrow up and sniffed at the red mess coating the tip. "Is this… raspberries?"

The bushes shook. Nick and Judy both froze.

A young fox burst forth, scattering leaves and making her bright green dress swirl about her legs. She was wearing a feathered cap and brandishing a bow, a triumphant look on her face.

"Ha! Got you, trespassers!" she crowed.

"You got my _shirt_ ," growled Nick.

"Vixie?" said Judy. "Is that you?"

At the sound of her name, the fox did a double take. She stared at Judy, her grin falling lax as recognition dawned until she was openly gaping. Horrified eyes turned to take in Nick again, at the raspberry gore now covering his shirt, and a strangled noise escaped her throat before she sucked in a breath—

And screamed.

"Rob _iiiiiiin_!"

She took off into the trees, the arrows in her quiver clattering together as she ran. Judy could hear the snap and crunch of underbrush as she fled.

"Well," said Nick. "Looks like dinner's on me, after all."

Judy stared at him.

"What?"

Her eyes dropped to the spot where the arrow had struck him. Nick followed her gaze, plucking at the ruined shirt and shaking his head. "I know, it’s terrible. This stain is never going to come out."

She reached over and pressed a paw against the flat of his stomach, feeling his muscles contract in surprise at her touch.

Not punctured. Not bleeding.

She closed her eyes and, slowly, breathed out.

_Thank goodness._

"Uh, Carrots? Not that I don't enjoy a good belly rub, but is now really the time?"

She looked up. Despite his glib words, Nick was watching her with serious eyes.

He was fine. She had to keep reminding herself that. He was fine and she was worrying him. Time to pull herself together.

"Sorry." She dropped her paw and stepped back. "We, uh… we need to follow Vixie. She'll lead us to Robin."

"Good. Sounds good," said Nick. He cleared his throat and gestured for her to go ahead of him. "Those with super hearing may lead the way."

It wasn't hard to follow the kit. She ran flat-out through the woods, no longer concerned with stealth, yelling for Robin the entire way.

When she suddenly fell silent, that's when Judy knew they were getting close.

The trees began to thin, becoming smaller and less densely packed before abruptly ending altogether, leaving them squinting in the late afternoon sunlight. In the middle of the clearing sat a small stone and wood structure so old and crumbling Judy hesitated to even call it a house. It looked more like one of those historical sites of architectural remains that she used to visit on school field trips. She half-expected to see a bronze plaque somewhere telling her more about the building.

Waiting in the doorway was another fox. He was tall for his species, with scruffy fur that was an even brighter shade of red than it had been in his picture.

He leaned against the doorframe as he watched them approach, arms crossed and a small smile teasing one corner of his mouth. He didn't seem surprised or bothered by the glint of their badges or the mess on Nick's shirt.

"Now this is surprise," he said. "We don't get too many guests around here. I trust you found the place okay?"

"With a little assistance," said Nick, nodding to the side of building where a feathered cap trembled and ducked out of sight.

"My sister is helpful like that."

"We're hoping you can be helpful, too," said Judy.

Robin's expression gave nothing away. "You want to know about Marian."

He was quick. She had to give him that.

"We know you two were seeing each other," said Nick.

"So you think she might be here? Well she's not. But feel free to search the grounds if you want. I won't even ask for a warrant, which I'm guessing you don't have."

Judy decided their best response to that was to neither confirm or deny. "Do you know where she might go?"

"If I knew that I wouldn't be here," said Robin. "I'd be out there. Protecting her. Helping her, if she would let me."

"Some might call that aiding and abetting,” said Nick.

"She's not the villain she's been painted as."

"We never said she was," said Judy.

Robin’s smile turned wry. "I might live in the last slice of real woods left in Zootopia, but I still read the news. I saw today's article."

"That story was not approved by the ZPD."

"So you're _not_ here looking to arrest Marian and her brothers?"

"Well… that is…" Judy looked at Nick.

"It doesn't matter what we plan to do," her parter said. "Regardless, you have an obligation to help us or be held for obstruction of justice. You should know you're already under suspicion for fraud."

Apparently Robin found that amusing, because his smile widened. "How d'you figure?"

"A few weeks ago you met with a Marty Lop about a fundraiser. Do you deny that conversation occurred?"

"I don't."

"And the fact that the fundraiser doesn't seem to exist?"

"That's because it doesn't."

That took both of them aback for a moment.

"You're admitting it was lie?" said Judy.

Robin shrugged one shoulder. "Sure. It was a cover story. I made it up so I could talk to Marty without his grandfather bothering us. All it took was one request for a small monthly payment before he was stomping out of the room."

"Why was it necessary that he leave?"

"Because while Grandpa Gregor might have a soft spot for Marian and her family, he isn't exactly trusting of _all_ foxes, if you know what I mean. I didn't want to have to deal with his ignorant accusations while I talked to his grandson."

"And what did you need to talk to him about?"

For the first time Robin lost his smile. "I wanted to ask about Marian. She'd stopped taking my calls and I thought Marty might still be in contact with her. They've known each other since they were kits. If she didn't feel comfortable coming to me, I thought maybe she would go to him. I thought he might know something."

"And did he?"

Robin shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. Seems she cut him out shortly after me."

"Why _did_ she cut you out?"

His smile returned, but with a bitter twist to it. "Because that's what you do when you break up with someone."

Nick and Judy exchanged looks.

"Didn't know about that bit, huh? Well, it's true. She ended things with me. That's why I don't know where she is now and why I lied about some fake fundraiser. But I never broke any laws." He looked straight at Nick. "Unlike some of us."

Nick narrowed his eyes. "If you're trying to imply something..."

"Only that I've heard of you, Nicholas Wilde. _Before_ your exploits at the ZPD started appearing in the papers. You were a small-time hustler who got around well for being a fox, if I remember rightly. Committed victimless crimes for the most part, and many of those weren't _technically_ crimes anyway, so the cops could never catch you."

"Sounds like you have me confused with someone else. A handsome and charming doppleganger, maybe."

Robin chuckled. "No need to get defensive about it. I actually admire what you've done for yourself. Both of you. My sister eats up the news stories about your cases and I figure, better you as a role model than all this fictional junk where the foxes are always shady minions to the villain, or not present at all."

Nick made a choking noise. " _Role model?_ "

"But as far as throwing stones just to see if I'll duck," said Robin, "please don't. You won't hit me and I have a few of my own stones tucked away, though I'd hate to have to use them. Especially in front of Vixie."

Nick was still struggling to find his voice. Judy pursed her lips, but only half-succeeded in stopping a smile from slipping out. The fox was charming, she'd give him that.

Robin looked over at her and winked. That seemed to snap her partner back to rights. Nick growled and took a step forward. "Look. We're not here to discuss our personal history with you, or your sister's—frankly—poor taste in role models."

Robin raised an eyebrow. Judy snorted.

"We're _here_ ," pressed on Nick, "to find out what you know about Marian Corsac's illegal activities. The latest being a collapsed burrow in the Rainforest District."

"That wasn't Marian," said Robin. "I don't know what she was doing there, but I know that burrow wasn't hers. She's never dug a tunnel in her life, and neither have any of her brothers. They're city foxes, through and through." He waved to a group of saplings across the yard. "See those? Craven and Reynard came over to help me plant them just this past summer, and you wouldn't believe how bad they were at it. Even giving them shovels didn't help. They were blistered and exhausted inside half an hour and wound up bringing me drinks instead while I did the rest of the work."

"A cute anecdote I'm sure they'll appreciate in court, where you can help them plead their case," said Nick. "But first you need to help us get them there."

"So they can be unfairly convicted and thrown into jail? Why should I?"

Nick opened his mouth. Closed it. He looked over at Judy. "Should I make the obstruction of justice threat again?"

"You can try," she said. "But he didn't seem too impressed by it the first time."

"True." He turned back to Robin. "How about some tough honesty then?"

Robin crossed his arms. "I would appreciate it, actually."

"Then to be completely honest, jail time is the least of your girlfriend's problems right now. Sorry, ex-girlfriend."

"What do you mean?"

"Someone else is after Marian and her brothers," said Judy.

" _After_ them?" Robin's gaze jumped between the two officers. "But… why would anyone be after them? Who is it?"

"We wish we could tell you more. The truth is we don't know much beyond that ourselves," said Judy. "But please believe us when we tell you that Marian, Reynard, Todd—they're all in danger. Craven is already hurt. We don't know how much time we have left to find them. For all we know, we could already be too late. I know you don't trust us, but whatever else, know that we want to protect them just as much as you do. It's true that it's a risk and they might go to jail, but Nick and I plan on doing everything we can to exonerate them, and in the meantime, at least they'll be alive and safe. But the only way we can do any of that is by finding them first. So please, if there is _anything_ you can tell us, it could save their lives."

Robin looked at Nick. "She's very passionate."

Nick rolled his eyes. "Passionate… dramatic. The point is she's telling the truth. So if you really care about Marian like you claim to, you'll tell us what you know."

Robin sighed and rubbed at his head like it suddenly pained him. He glanced over at where Vixie was still hiding behind the house. From where she stood, Judy could hear the soft snap of grass being plucked and then a second later a little piece of green would flutter out to join its broken brethren on the ground.

"I don't know that I can tell you anything helpful," said Robin finally. "None of what I know has yet to help me."

"We'd still like to hear it," said Judy. "Please."

He looked at her, and behind the distrust Judy could see the worry, the need to help the fox he clearly still cared about.

Nick said nothing. He just stood there, waiting.

Judy knew the moment Robin gave in. His shoulders drooped and he dropped his arms. She tried not to give away her relief.

Pushing off from the doorjamb, he waved them into the house. "You better come inside for this."

The house looked just as old on the inside as it did on the outside. The ground floor was made up of a single large room divided into a kitchen and living room by a single long trestle table. Thick dark rugs covered the living room half of the space, muffling the creaky wood floor. A couple squishy couches that looked like they had been reupholstered and re-stuffed one too many times faced a great stone fireplace that Nick could have walked into without ducking. On the mantel above it sat a large flat screen TV and Internet router. Behind them, a circular staircase wrapped once around the room before disappearing into the upper floors.

Robin went to the fridge to get drinks. Judy took a seat on one of the couches. Unlike her couch at home, she didn't have to hop to get on it. Nick sat beside her, his keen fox eyes taking in everything. Pictures of Vixie, Robin, and an older fox couple that might have been their parents decorated one wall in a messy array that said the pictures had been added one by one over time. On the windowsill were a few smaller photos of Marian, and even a couple of her brothers.

Judy found herself lingering on one of Marian and Robin. By the wooded background, they were somewhere on Robin's property. Marian was cuddled up under his chin, smile bright, and Robin had his arms wrapped around her, eyes closed like he was savoring the moment. They looked so happy together. It gave Judy a pang to think that happiness might now be lost.

Robin returned with glasses of pink lemonade. He set them on the wooden coffee table in front of them, pushing a stack of children's coloring books and crayons aside to make room.

"Your home is very…" Judy trailed off, searching for the word. "Classic looking."

Robing barked a laugh. He took a seat on the couch opposite them, cradling his own glass of lemonade. "It's okay. I know it's a falling down mess. It's actually older than Zootopia."

“But how is that possible?"

"It's one of the few holdouts from when the city was first being planned. My ancestors owned the land and refused to sell. Not that they were offered a fair amount, but it would have been enough to resettle somewhere else if they had wanted to, or buy better property after the city was constructed. But they were stubborn like that." Despite his words, the pride in the fox's voice was unmistakable. "So the government wound up building the city around it. There were a few other homes too, but ours is the last one still standing. The trees you passed coming in are the very same ones that were in the area in the beginning."

"That's amazing," said Judy. "How is it that this isn't more well known? I feel like I should have heard about this before now."

"I don't think it's something the city likes to brag about. It was kind of a cheap tactic, building around the land. But I like my privacy anyways, so if the government's embarrassment keeps the tourists away, I'm glad for it."

From upstairs came a thump. Judy and Nick looked up.

"Vixie," said Robin. "Sneaking in through the second floor window again. I don't know how many times I've told her to stop doing that."

"She's going to be fun as a teenager," said Judy.

"Don't I know it."

Footsteps sounded on the stairs. but they stopped halfway without anyone appearing.

Judy and Robin shared a smile.

"So. Who wants to start this party?" asked Nick, clapping his paws together. He looked pointedly at Robin.

Robin took a sip of a lemonade and leaned back in his seat. "I'm still not sure what exactly I can tell you. What is it that you want to know?"

"Well," said Judy. "Finding the Corsacs is the most important thing, but I have to admit we're still fuzzy about how this all started in the first place. Before you two broke up, did Marian say or do anything suspicious or out of the ordinary? Anything that might explain why her and her brothers are acting this way?"

Robin looked down at his drink, eyes sad. "Perhaps."

They waited. When a moment had passed and the other fox still hadn't said anything, Nick prompted him with a short, "Well?"

"You have to understand," said Robin. "Marian is… not herself right now. She's grieving. She took Carol's passing hard, which isn't a surprise. Carol was like a second mother to her. She practically raised Todd after their parents died. Her sudden loss… it affected Marian."

"Affected her how?"

"Exactly how you'd expect. She cried a lot, even over little things. And she wasn't sleeping well. She was stressed about taking over the restaurant, having to run it without Carol there to help. It made her a bit scatterbrained. She'd forget things. Stood me up on a couple of dates, then called in tears because she felt so guilty about it. She's the sweetest fox you'll ever meet, Marian is."

"I'm sure you're right," said Judy, because he seemed to need the reassurance.

Robin gave her a grateful smile, but it faded as he continued. "I knew she was struggling. But—I mean, when my parents died I was a _mess_. Compared to me, she seemed to be handling it okay."

"So you're saying she wasn't?"

Robin shook his head. "She started losing things. And then she started to get… paranoid. Packing up keepsakes and hiding them. She wouldn't even tell _me_ where they were."

Judy and Nick shared a look.

"Not that it mattered," said Robin. "All the important stuff was already gone."

"What kind of important stuff?" asked Nick.

"Like Carol's recipe books. The bunny had always been secretive about them. No one else was allowed to read them. She insisted on cooking all the food for the restaurant by herself so no one knew the exact ingredients or amounts. She had just started teaching Marian some of the recipes before she got sick. Marian had been so touched. She had gone on and on about it."

"That must have been hard," said Judy. "Losing such a big part of Carol's life."

"No to mention," said Nick, "no recipe books, no meals for the restaurant."

"It was bad," agreed Robin. "But then shortly after that, something even worse happened." He scrubbed a paw over his face. "Marian misplaced the will."

"Carol's will?"

"Yes. It named Marian legal inheritor of Edible Greens. Without it, her right to the restaurant could be contested."

"Carol didn't have a copy filed with the courthouse?" asked Nick. "Or with a lawyer or notary?"

"That's just it. Carol _had_ done all that. Or at least Marian thought so. But when I went with her to request another copy, we were told that there was no such will on file."

"That is strange," said Judy.

"Did you try looking for the copy Marian lost?" asked Nick.

"Of course. But…"

"But what?"

"I told you that Marian had become a little paranoid. She kept insisting that she wasn't losing these things. That they were being stolen from the restaurant, her house, Carol's house. But she refused to go to the police."

"Did she say who she thought was stealing from her?"

"It doesn't matter. It wasn't them."

"Who did she think it was?”

Robin hesitated. "You have to understand. She wasn't in her right mind."

"Tell us," said Nick.

Robin sighed. "Peter."

Judy froze reaching for her drink. "Carol's son, Peter?"

Robin nodded. "She told me he was punishing her for what happened to Carol."

"Do you know what happened between them back then?"

"Only that they had a big falling out and Peter left. Marian, Craven and Reynard refused to talk about it and Todd was too young to remember. But it's not him. It can't be."

"Why not?" said Judy. "It makes sense that he might come back, especially if he heard about Carol. Just because Marian was in mourning doesn't mean she didn't know what she was talking about."

"You think I doubted her because she was a bit emotional?" said Robin. "No. It wasn't like that. Really. Out of the two of us, I've always said that Marian was the smarter one. I know it wasn't Peter because I checked. I had someone look into it."

"Who?" said Nick.

"A friend. Someone I trusted. That's all you need to know."

When Nick looked skeptical, Judy jumped in, saying, "So this friend. They found Peter?"

Robin nodded. "Traced his steps back to that ignorant dirt strip they call a town and asked around."

"And?"

"And it turns out that Peter died almost a year to the day that he arrived. There's a gravestone and everything."

There was silence for a beat as the officers absorbed that. Nick looked over at Judy. "Well, there goes that theory."

"Did you tell Marian?" Judy asked Robin.

"I did. I thought it would make her feel better. The way she was talking, you'd think Peter was haunting her or something." Robin swished the lemonade around in his glass. He looked… dispirited. Like telling them this had drained something out of him, and not for the better.

"Instead of being relieved, she got upset. She yelled at me for sending someone to check in on things and refused to hear me out. She broke up with me then and there. I tried calling later, once I thought she might've calmed down, but she refused to answer her phone. She warned her brothers to stay away from me. Then they disappeared and all this happened."

"You're not angry she broke up with you?" asked Nick.

"How can I be? She was right. It wasn't my business, or my history, or my… family. But things had been going so well between us I felt like we were closer, I guess. Like it would be okay for me to do this for her." Robin shook his head. "Presumptuous. I should have told her what I was doing. I should have gotten her permission first. It's just… I've been an older brother for so many years now, I guess I forgot how to be a partner. I had hoped… I _still_ hope that once this gets resolved I might be able to fix things. Tell her how sorry I am."

He glanced over to the window, and Judy knew he was looking at the picture of the two of them.

A little red head peeked around the stairway, big dark eyes on Nick. Judy glanced over to see if he was aware of his audience of one. His tail twitched and one ear flicked towards the stairs, but he gave no other reaction.

"One last question," said Judy. "Have you heard of a bunny named Benjamin Cottontail?"

"You mean the produce magnate?" said Robin. "Vaguely. Why?"

Judy handed him a picture. "Because Marian and her brothers have broken into his factory twice now, and we're still not sure why."

Robin frowned down at the photo. "I don't remember reading anything about that in the paper."

Judy looked over at Nick. "Now that you mention it, I don't think I saw it there, either."

Nick shook his head. "It wasn't."

"Why did I think it was? Cottontail didn't correct me when I spoke with him."

"A lying business animal," said Robin. "What a surprise."

Judy shifted in her seat, feeling uncomfortable and already regretting bringing the matter up. "He probably just misunderstood what I was referring to," she said lightly. Neither fox looked convinced. Judy wasn't certain she believed herself either. "That aside, is there anything else you can think of that might be helpful?"

Robin set down his lemonade. "Only that Marian and her brothers are good foxes. I hope you’ll keep that in mind when you find them."

"We will. Thank you for entrusting us with this information, Mr. Swift."

"You're welcome. And it's Robin, please."

"Robin. We'll let you get back to…" Judy looked around. "What do you do, if you don't mind me asking."

Robin's smile turned mischievous. "You might say I'm a bit of a philanthropist."

"Oh. How nice."

"I enjoy it." As much as he enjoyed his privacy apparently, because he didn't elaborate.

"Well, we'll let you get back to it then."

Robin walked them to the door.

"I feel like I should warn you," said Judy. "Mayor Lionheart will be on the news soon to update the city on this case, and his stance is liable to be... upsetting to you."

"Thank you for the heads up," said Robin. "But it won't be the first time that overgrown cat has upset me, nor will it be the last."

"Not a fan of our dear mayor, huh?" said Nick.

"Let's just say I didn't cry when he was removed from office last year," said Robin. "It was a pity he was reinstated."

"Mayor Lionheart had good intentions, even if his methods were a bit dubious," said Judy. "At least he seemed to learn from his mistakes, which is not something everyone can say."

Robin blinked, looking surprised. But then he smiled, a giant grin that dazzled. "You really are a good bunny," he said.

"You're just now noticing?" drawled Nick. "And here I almost thought you were clever. Come on, Carrots. Let's go."

Footsteps suddenly pounded down the stairs. Vixie shot out from her hiding place and ran over to them, ducking behind Robin. She stretched up onto her tip-toes to whisper something into his ear and Robin leaned down to accommodate her, lips twitching.

He straightened and looked at Nick. "You wouldn't happen to have another business card, would you?" he asked. "Vixie lost the one of yours she had."

"My card? Sure. I guess. Let's see here..." Nick patted his pockets. After a few seconds of searching, he pulled out a slightly bent business card.

He held it out. "Will this work?"

Robin nudged his sister forward. "Go on."

Vixie reached out and took the card, her giant eyes never leaving Nick's face. Nick smiled at her. "Take care of this one, okay?" he said.

Judy thought the young fox would run away then. But the kit's mouth firmed and her chin lifted. She raised her arm in a salute and held it.

Robin hid his laughter behind a hasty cough. "Vixie, that's not—" But Nick stepped forward and Robin stopped. Straightening his shoulders, Nick very solemnly saluted back. Vixie beamed, revealing one missing canine tooth, and then turned and raced back up the stairs.

"You don't do kids, huh?" said Judy as Nick dropped his arm and beat a hasty retreat from the house.

"Don't even start, Carrots."

She waved goodbye to a bemused Robin and followed after her partner. "Admit it. It feels nice having someone look up to you."

" _Uck_ , never. Will you hurry up? The sun's setting and I don't want to be stuck in these woods after dark."

"You're nocturnal.”

Nick's phone started to ring. Judy watched in amusement as he scrambled for it, eager to have an out from the conversation. He answered it and put in on speaker. "Wilde."

"Wilde, it's Howle. I'm at the station and I've got a present here for you."

"Did I forget our anniversary again?" said Nick. "How embarrassing. You'll have to forgive me. I didn't get you anything."

The wolf ignored his sarcasm. "Sending you a picture of it now."

The phone dinged. Nick and Judy stared. It was a shot of the ZPD's interrogation room. And handcuffed to one of the chairs was Mo, looking about as sullen as an arrested mole could look. The handcuffs were superfluous, though, because Mo had been wrapped ankles to chin in a wine red ribbon that came together around his neck in a giant bow. A tag stuck to his forehead read: TO NICKY, WITH LOVE.

"Found him on the front steps of the ZPD like this," said Howle. "He's got some frostbite that'll need to be seen to, but I figured you'd want to talk to him first."

"Thanks, Howle. We'll be right over." Nick hung up and looked at Judy. " _Now_ do you agree we should get a move on?"

Judy did. And just to tweak his tail, she made sure to beat him to the cruiser.

She took the passenger's seat this time. Nick slid in behind the wheel and turned on the siren.

"Is that really necessary?" asked Judy.

"What? We've got a frostbitten mole to interrogate. If that's not an emergency I don't know what is."

Judy rolled her eyes but didn't argue.

The vehicles surrounding them pulled away, the road opening up, and Nick hit the gas as above them the sun slipped behind the high-rises of Zootopia's skyline.


	8. Chapter 8

"I don't understand why you're so confused by this, Carrots."

"I'm not confused," said Judy defensively. They had reached the station in record time, thanks to Nick using the siren and several driving tricks he had learned from his friend Flash. Initially, Nick's speediness had stemmed from his desire to interview the mole as soon as possible. But halfway back, Judy had started putting clues together, and now all Nick wanted was to find a distraction for her too-quick mind.

The front doors to the station whooshed open, emitting a small herd of rattled-looking antelope in their late teens who all had the same mortified expressions of first-time offenders who had just gotten their flanks handed to them by Chief Bogo. They were too busy making a quick exit to notice the smaller officers entering ahead of them. Judy hopped right while Nick dodged left, the two reuniting in the lobby once the stampede had passed.

Clawhauser waved to them from his desk.

"Look," said Judy. "I get that Mr. Big is the one who caught the mole and sent him to you. What I _don't_ understand is how he knew we were looking for him in the first place."

Like a wolf with a bone, she was. Nick had to check his tone before replying. "Does it matter? The mole's been arrested and we finally have a possible lead. You know what they say about gift horses…"

"My neighbor Eddie would take offense to that."

"Your neighbor or your _neiiiii_ ghbor?"

"Funny."

Nick smirked and ducked inside the changing rooms, doing a double-take when Judy followed him. He was starting to feel a little like _he_ was the bone. Or maybe the carrot.

He had yet to replace the extra set of clothes he normally kept in his locker, so he prowled to the back shelves where they stored extra t-shirts for trainees and promotional events. He snagged the least offensive looking one from off the top of the pile. It was charcoal gray with the ZPD logo over the left pocket.

He held it up, eyeballing the size. Immediately he could tell it wasn't going to fit. The sleeves came to his elbows and flapped like elephant ears, and the collar was a V-neck. It would expose him to the belly.

Judy watched him, arms crossed—not a good sign. "You have to admit it's strange," she persisted.

Nick tossed the shirt back on top of the pile, not bothering to fold it, and started searching the other stacks for a smaller size. "Strange that this department doesn't stock fox sizes? No. Not really."

Judy grabbed a shirt from off the children's stack and tossed it to him. It was bright blue and had a picture of Chief Bogo on it. Their boss was actually smiling, which was somehow even more scary than his glowering. In cartoony letters over his head it read: GET BUFF-ALO AT ZPD SUMMER CAMP!

"Really?"

Judy shrugged. "Or you can wear the v-neck." Her lips twitched. "I hear the furry chest look is in now."

_My partner. The comedian._

She was probably right about the size, though.

With a sigh, he started to unbutton his shirt—then stopped. He looked over at Judy. She was still watching him. "Ah, Carrots? Do you mind?"

She blinked and understanding dawned. "Oh. Right. Sorry." She turned smartly on her heel so that she had her back to him.

Nick went back to unbuttoning. For a few precious seconds, the only sounds were the rustle of fabric and the distant hum and clank of the air conditioner.

"You know, I find the fact that you're not more concerned about this very suspicious," said Judy.

"I thought we were supposed to be interrogating the mole, not each other."

"The suspect was addressed to _you_ , Nick."

He was not going to be able to escape this conversation, was he?

"How did Mr. Big know we were looking for the Mole?" Judy asked again.

Nick tossed his ruined shirt into the laundry hamper, the swish of fabric covering his sigh of capitulation. "He knows because I went to see him. After you were taken."

There was a moment of silence. Nick used the moment to pick up his new shirt.

"I don't understand," said Judy. "Why would you do that?"

When Nick didn't immediately answer, Judy said, more sternly, " _Nick_."

"I went because I thought he was the one who had abducted you, all right?"

"You _what_?" Judy whirled back around, giant eyes widening even further at the sight of his furry abdomen.

Giving a mental yelp, Nick yanked the shirt down over his head. Aloud he snapped, " _Carrots_!"

"You accused Mr. Big of being my kidnapper? Why would you do that?" The accusation was aimed at his stomach. Nick scratched at the area self-consciously. "I don't know. It made sense at the time."

"He could have iced you, Nick!"

Nick could have used some of that ice right now. He felt overly warm and agitated. His partner, on the other hand, had already recovered from the moment and was back to glaring at him, eyes fixed on his, hands on hips, her right foot tapping out an irritated beat. It only served to rile Nick's emotions further.

"Well, he didn't," said Nick, using his smuggest and most careless tone, the one he knew would annoy Judy the most. "So why bother stressing about it? And hey! Now we have a perp to question and we didn't even have to lift a paw to get him. Now _that's_ the kind of police work that I like."

"Completely incorrigible," she said.

Nick grinned.

"That was _not_ a compliment."

“I’ll take what I can get."

Judy looked down at his shirt. Chief Bogo smiled brightly back at her.

Nick made a face. "I think I prefer raspberry stains."

For some reason his disgust seem to make her feel better. Her expression lightened. "Oh, I don't know. I think you look kind of cute in it."

Vindictive bunny.

They made their way down to the interrogation room. The mole's chair had been pushed closer to the table and someone had given him a blanket and a bowl of warm water to dip his frost-nipped paws into. A cup of steaming tea sat next to it, along with a familiar blue duffel bag, now marked with an evidence tag. He was still wearing the ribbon. It looked even more ridiculous in person.

As soon as they entered the room, the mole's long pink nose immediately started twitching. "Oh? It's the fox-bunny! I was wondering if you would show up."

"Fox bunny?" asked Nick.

"Don't—" said Judy, at the same time the mole answered, "Yeah, fox-bunny, because that's what she smells like. It's very confusing for a near-sighted animal like me, I'll tell you." He cocked his head as they circled around the table, his nose sniffing towards Nick this time. "Although, the smell makes more sense now. Her partner, are you?"

"I do _not_ smell," said Judy before Nick could respond.

"You do," said the mole, unbothered by her upset. "Like a fox. The one next to you, specifically."

Nick watched as Judy bit off another denial. She pressed her paws flat to the table and bowed her head, foot thumping fast against the floor as she fought for calm.

Nick leaned over her and took a sniff.

Her head shot up and and she smacked at him. "Stop that!"

"I smell nothing but bunny," he said and Judy flinched, an odd reaction for what he thought should’ve been an obvious point of fact.

"See?" Judy said to Mo.

"Well of course that's all _he_ smells,” said the mole. "Can you normally smell yourself on other things? I mean, unless you're one of those animals who lets their fur get really, really rank."

He had a point. Still, Nick couldn’t help but feel a smidge disappointed. The thought of Judy going around smelling like him was… _thrilling, flattering, shameful, intoxicating, wonderful_ —

"We did not come hear to discuss this," Judy said with forced calm.

"Well I should think not," said the mole. "But was it really necessary to send out polar bears to hunt me down? They stuffed me in an ice truck! An _ice truck_. I thought I would freeze to death. Really, how unprofessional."

Nick snorted. "Said the kidnapper."

"It was just business. You shouldn't take it personally."

"You're right. Just because you drugged her, kidnapped her, and left her tied up in an illegal burrow. You know, the one that _flooded_."

"Hey, Mr. Sarcastic, there was no way to know that last bit would happen, ok?“ defended Mo. “I’m mean sure, any mole worth his soil could tell you that those tunnels were unstable, but that they would collapse _right then_? Never. I swear, paw to Earth.”

Judy raised an eyebrow and reached for the duffel. Nick watched from over her shoulder as she unzipped it started pulling things out. A pair of sparkly shoes with worn heels. A pack of trading cards that Nick vaguely remembered being popular with young teens around ten or so years ago. A frayed scrap of blanket. A porcelain bunny figurine. Cake-toppers, yellowed with age, of a fox bride and groom.

"Looking for the good stuff, fox-bunny?" asked the mole, swishing his reddened paws in the bowl of water. "Well you won't find anything in there, trust me. Must've kept the valuables in one of the other bags. Figures I grabbed the wrong one. Garbage, all of it. Not even worth doing time for, though they'll peg me for it anyway."

Judy pulled out a small framed photograph. It showed Marian and Robin snuggling together somewhere outside. Nick remembered seeing the same picture at Robin's place.

Judy traced the couple's faces, her expression wistful and a little sad. His emotional bunny. Nick pressed closer to her, and for the briefest of moments he felt her lean back into him.

"I'll tell you now," said Mo, "if you think I'm going to confess anything to you, it won't happen. I have a strict privacy policy when it comes to clients. A mole's reputation is only as good as his word, you know."

Judy began carefully putting the items back. To Mo, she said, "That's fine. I don't need a confession from you."

The swishing stopped. "You don't?"

Judy zipped the duffel bag back up and set it aside. Looking the mole in the eye, she said, "No, I don't. And do you know why? Because I was there. You kidnapped _me_. I was the victim and witness. And now, I'm the cop."

"Ah. I see your point."

"I'm glad you do."

The mole licked his lips. "So… if you're not here for a confession, then why are you here?"

Judy pulled out a chair and took a seat so that she was facing him. Nick remained standing at her side. "Because we want to know about your raccoon partner. Ray."

"Co-worker, not partner. And I'm not telling you anything."

"Why not? Your privacy policy doesn't extend to him too, does it?"

"No. But I'm not a rat, either."

"You're right about that," said Nick. "Rats are actually business savvy. They know when to turn down a bad job."

Mo frowned at the dig and lifted his paws from the bowl of water, wiping them off on his blanket. "I haven't even gotten paid for this job yet," he grumbled.

"A fact that will help the Corsacs out in court," said Nick. "You—not so much."

By his expression, it was clear the mole didn't like this. He reached for his tea, but the ribbon he was wrapped up in was too tight and wouldn't let him reach that far.

Judy leaned across the table and pushed the cup closer. He looked grateful for a moment, then caught himself and pinched his expression back into a scowl.

"You made a mistake taking the job," said Judy. "You know that as well as we do. And you regret it, I can see that. It will get you farther when your case goes to court."

"It will?" said the mole, and Nick silently echoed his disbelief. Court rarely cared if you were repentant or not. And Mo mostly seemed regretful that he had been caught, not for being a mammal-for-hire in the first place.

"It will if I go easy on the charges," said Judy.

At that, Mo looked hopeful. Nick frowned. “He could have killed you."

"Well, he didn't. So why bother stressing about it?" said Judy in such a perfect imitation of his words from earlier that Nick ground his teeth. To Mo, she said, "But this is a mercy I am only willing to entertain if you help us find your coworker."

Mo looked down at his tea unhappily.

Nick and Judy waited.

Finally, he set his mug aside. "What do you want to know?"

"Who hired him?" asked Nick.

"I don't know." When they just looked at him, he said, " _Really_ , I don't. We don't discuss clients. Ever."

"Do you know where he went?"

"Last time Ray called, he said he had followed them to Sahara Square, passed the Oasis Hotel. Some scrubby little outskirts I've never heard of."

"When was this?"

"I don't know. A couple hours ago?"

Judy was immediately out of her chair; Nick was already at the door. He held it for her and she ducked under his arm and out into the hallway.

"Where are you going?" said the mole. "Wait! Can you send someone to take this ribbon off, at least? It itches!"

"Consider it a fitting substitution," said Nick. "Since your conscience doesn't seem to be bothering you much, I'll let some cheap nylon do it instead."

"This is torture!"

"No, just a mild allergy, I think." He smirked. "We'll have someone come and collect you in a bit."

He shut the door on the mole's shouted response. Judy shook her head at him. "Don't you think that was a bit much?"

"Just because _you_ decided to let him off easy doesn't mean I have to," said Nick. "Are you really not going to press charges?"

"I said I would think about it. I didn't say I would do it."

Nick eyed her. "You'll do it."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you're a dumb bunny who's too nice for her own good."

Judy narrowed her eyes at him. "Just for that, you get to drive again."

Nick was okay with that. He needed the distraction anyway.

Judy's gaze flicked down his front again before she caught herself and averted her eyes, hurrying off down the hallway, tail twitching, and Nick hated that he couldn't tell if the glance had been because of the hideous shirt, or because she’d been remembering what was beneath it.

Or that it mattered so much to him either way.

Nick snorted. And the mole thought _he_ was the one being tortured.

* * *

Night beat them to the Sahara. Asphalt roads bleached by the sun glowed pale as the moon under the cruiser's headlights. Homes and businesses loomed like crags of rock on either side of the road, each level a different striation of color: hot copper golds and dark-baked reds cooled to tones of blue and gray under the darkness of night. The dusty streets were empty, the streetlights few and far between. Even businesses with signs that still said OPEN were dark inside, making it feel more like a dare than an invitation to enter. Nick had seen honey badger dens that looked more welcoming.

Unlike most other business districts of Zootopia, which maintained its bright and lively spirit even at night, full of glittering lights, pounding music, raucous crowds eager for a good time, this little outcropping of the city felt strangely subdued, like a side-street during a parade. You knew that the party was close by, but you were definitely not part of it.

They rounded a sharp corner, the road taking them under a short cave underpass before spitting them out into a stretch of valley that dead-ended at a cliff face made colorful by layers and layers of graffiti, none of it legible anymore. On the right, a jiffy store with all its lights still ablaze stood out like a beacon of cheap snacks and home good miscellany. Out front were several plastic tables and chairs in various sizes, all peeling and warped by the heat.

And lounging at one of the smaller tables was Finnick.

"I didn't know he lived around here," said Judy.

"He lives wherever he wants to," said Nick.

He pulled the cruiser over and they got out. Finnick didn't so much as turn his head at their approach. He was slouched back in his seat, an open can of soda in one paw. He was wearing his usual outfit of cargo shorts, bowling shirt, and his favorite pair of sunglasses. In the neighboring alley behind him, Nick could just make out his van, squeezed between the stone brick walls and covered by heavy shadows. He tried not to think of how many parking laws his friend was in violation of and failed.

"Finnick," greeted Nick.

"Nick," Finnick responded evenly.

"Why the shades?" asked Judy.

"It's bright out."

She glanced up at the single flickering streetlight above them. No, not flickering, Nick corrected himself. Moths danced around the bulb, the swarm large enough to blot out the light in flashes of darkness.

"Seen any foxes around lately?" he asked him.

"You mean like the ones his highness mayor couldn't shut up about on the news earlier?" Finnick took a sip of his drink. "Nope.”

"What about raccoons?"

"We're in the Sahara, man."

"Then how about burrows? Have you heard about any of them being dug nearby? I hear they're becoming quite popular again thanks to that back to nature fad going around."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Nick moved so that he was in the little fox's direct line of sight. "Just in case you weren't aware, lives are at stake on this, Finn."

"Yeah?" said the little fox. "Sucks for them, then."

"Don't be like this. We're friends, aren't we? Friends help each other." Nick flashed him his biggest, friendliest smile.

Finnick raised a single eyebrow. "Is that so?"

He held out his drink. Nick looked down at it, then at him, but Finnick continued to hold it there, waiting. Rolling his eyes, Nick reached for it. Right before he could take it, however, Finnick upended the can. Carbonated liquid spilled out, right onto Nick's feet. Judy squeaked and hopped away to avoid the splatter. Nick remained where he was, letting Finnick pour until there was nothing left.

Only when he was sure it was empty did Finnick finally pull back. He crushed the can in one tiny paw and tossed it into a recycling bin near the curb with enough skill that it was clear he had performed the action many times before.

"Feel better now?" asked Nick.

Finnick bared his teeth at him. He had impressively sharp canines for a predator his size. Next to Nick, Judy stiffened at this display of hostility, shifting her weight back a bit, not in retreat but in preparation for defense.

"Friends don't bust friends!" Finnick snarled.

Nick rocked back on heels, absorbing the blow with, he thought, remarkable aplomb. "Is that why you didn't answer my call the other day? Because you're still angry at me about that? That was _you're_ fault for being so obvious. I mean, come on, you know better than to commit a crime right in front of a police officer."

"I thought I was with my _friend_ , not a cop," spat Finnick, and Nick flinched as this second blow struck more solidly. He stuffed his fists into his pockets. "If I hadn't busted you, word would have gotten back to my boss. I would have been written up. I could have lost my job."

"Well congratulations," said Finnick, returning to his careless slouch in the chair. "You got to keep the _job_."

Nick stared down at him. He knew he had ticked Finnick off, but he hadn't realized it had been to this extent. Hurt and anger boiled up inside of him at the unfairness of it. He felt the edge of his mouth quiver around a snarl and fought to stifle it. _Don't let them see…_

Judy stepped in front of Nick, the move startling him out of his upset. She glared down at Finnick. "You know you were supposed to go to jail for doing what you did, right?" she told him.

The little fox frowned. "What?"

"Don't, Carrots," said Nick.

"Why not?" demanded Judy. "Why shouldn't I tell him, since he thinks you betrayed him so badly?"

"Because…” he started, but that was as far as he managed to get before his clever response failed him. There really was no answer he could give her. That he didn’t care? That he was too afraid of trying and still being rejected? That all friendships crashed and burned eventually? Either way he was a liar or a coward or a cynic, and she wouldn’t accept any of those excuses anyway. She’d see right through him just like she always did. And what if this was the one that finally made her realize what a wanting creature he was and she—

"Tell me what?” growled Finnick. “What are you two talking about?”

"Didn't you hear me with those whoppers you got on your head?" Judy snapped, gesturing to her own not-insignificant pair of ears. Finnick's eyebrows shot so high they were visible over the top of his giant sunglasses. Nick made a choking noise and grabbed his partner's shoulder, not sure if it was to stop her from going after Finnick or to yank her away when Finnick finally snapped and made a go for her throat. Judy didn't stop, though. "You were supposed to have jail time," she told him. "Nick was the one who managed to get it down to just some community service. And really, how awful could handing out popsicles to cubs and calfs at a primary school have been? I keep saying it, but baby animals are adorable."

"Maybe to you—" Finnick started, but Judy cut him off.

“And as far as loyalties go—to me, _you're_ the one who betrayed his friend first."

That bomb of a statement knocked both foxes back.

Finnick recovered first. Suddenly he was on his feet at the edge of the chair, placing them eye-to-sunglasses. "How do you figure, rabbit?"

Judy was unintimidated. "Because friends don't put friends into impossible positions," she told him. "You knew Nick had an obligation to uphold the law and you flaunted your crime in front of him anyway. You took advantage. Worse, you almost ruined everything Nick has worked so hard to build for himself, and for what? Just to have the satisfaction of getting a cop to let you walk. You should be ashamed of yourself. As a citizen _and_ as a friend."

"Carrots…" said Nick softly.

She turned and grabbed his paw, pulling him back. "Let's go, Nick. You don't need a friend who treats you like this anyway."

There were no other cars on the street, but Judy still looked both ways before crossing back to the cruiser. Sand that had been ground to a fine dust by time and traffic blew against their legs. Nick's feet, sticky from the soda, became caked with it in seconds.

"Carrots…" he tried again. He could feel the tension vibrating though his partner's grip. He could hear her muttering. "…Could just go back there and box that fox's oversized ears… how _dare_ he make you feel bad about doing your job… How dare he use friendship as an excuse… and than to dismiss you _just like that_ … How dare he…"

"Judy." He tugged her to a stop. They had reached the cruiser. When she just glared at him, still lost in her fury, Nick lifted his paw—her own still clinging to it—and waved it in front of her twitching nose. "I need my paw to drive."

"Oh." Like that, her temper dissipated. She released him and stepped back. "Sorry about that. I just…" She huffed and shot a glare across the street. "I may have gotten carried away. Sorry."

"No, that was…" But Nick had no words for it, really. All of that righteous anger, gathered up like a shield of justice just for him. It made Nick feel full, touched, humble, grateful. _Unworthy._ He settled on, "My fault. You shouldn't bother yourself with it."

"You're my partner. Of course I'm going to bother. You're problems are my problems now."

"I feel like there's a warning in there somewhere," teased Nick.

"Maybe there is," Judy teased back. In a more serious voice she added, "I'll tell you one thing, though, I'm sure as molasses not saving that ungrateful fox a booth at the Carrot Day Festival for his stupid Pawpsicles now."

"Don't do me any favors, rabbit," came the tiny fox's gruff voice from just behind them.

Judy and Nick turned. Finnick stood near the cruiser's bumper, his sunglasses clutched in one tiny paw.. The vehicle's shadow covered him like a dark blanket, but his eyes glittered out at Nick from beneath a deep scowl. "So you're just leaving again, huh? Off with your rabbit on another suicide mission like a sap, just like the first time."

"If I recall correctly, _you're_ the one who stuck the sticker badge to my shirt and told me to go," said Nick.

"As a _lark,"_ snapped Finnick, and for the first time Nick heard frustration beneath all that stewing anger. "I expected you to come back _. You_ were the one who betrayed our friendship _first_ , you lying, dirty, no good excuse for a fox!"

_Oh_. It was a realization encompassed in a single thought, echoed by the ghost of a whisper from Judy, who was staring at Finnick with sudden understanding in her bright eyes.

"It was supposed to be the two of us," said Finnick. "You and me against this crappy city. And then you left me, just like that. To become one of _them_."

"You shouldn't blame him for wanting to better himself," said Judy, not without sympathy. "You should be encouraging him."

"You keep that twitchy nose of yours out of this, rabbit!"

"Finn." Nick shook his head, just once. "Don't. Not to my partner."

At that, the smaller fox's scowl stretched, becoming something less angry and more pained. "I used to be your partner, too," he pointed out.

Nick couldn't argue because it was true. And though a quip was on the tip of his tongue, he swallowed it back.

Finnick took a shuddering breath and seemed to collect himself. He focused his gaze on a cactus just to the left of them. "I was telling the truth before. I don't know anything about any raccoons or tunnels or any of that," he said. "But if you're here looking for a place someone could hide out, there is an abandoned apartment complex in the topmost level of the canyon where squatters like to go. I wouldn't suggest trying to search it at night, but…"

“We can't wait for morning," said Nick. "There's—"

"Yeah-yeah. Lives at stake, blah-blah-blah. I heard you the first time, superfox. You know the mortality rate for this job of yours sucks, right? Especially for go-getters like you two?"

"We'll be careful," said Judy.

"You'd better," said Finnick. He looked over at them finally. He jabbed his sunglasses at Judy. "If Nick gets killed because of you, we will have more than words."

The threat only made Judy smile at him. "Maybe you're a good friend, after all," she said.

Finnick made a disgusted noise and flicked open his sunglasses. Sliding them back onto his nose, he disappeared across the street and into his van. Nick watched him go.

"I feel like I should offer that apology to him now," said Judy, ears drooping. "I shouldn't have assumed…"

Nick shook his head. " _I'm_ the one who needs to apologize." He looked up at the cliffs far above them. From this angle, they even blocked out the moon. He wasn't normally bothered by heights, but the thought of going up there gave even him some pause. "First, though, we have some foxes to find."

* * *

The climb up to the apartments wasn't easy. The elevator to the upper part of the canyon had broken down years ago and never been fixed, which left an exhausting trek up the stairs as Judy and Nick's only option. Flight after flight they climbed. Judy lost count somewhere in the mid-thirties. The stairs had been chiseled right into the stone, with the upper part open to allow for natural lighting to illuminate the way. But it also allowed for other, less favorable elements, like wind. The farther up they went, the stronger the gusts that buffeted them and the more eroded the steps became. The last few floors had no stairs at all, just a bumpy incline smoothed to a shine. Easy to trip on, easier slip on, and hardest of all to climb. And always there was the wind, tugging at their clothes, blowing at their faces, blasting grit into their eyes even from so high up.

The top, when they finally reached it, wasn't any more welcoming. The apartments were arranged side by side, each with a connected balcony that made up a truly impressive breezeway that stretched the length of the complex, eventually disappearing down a second set of outdoor stairs at the far end. If anything, the walkway was even more dangerous than the stairs. The balcony railings had been chiseled from stone, beautiful and delicate pieces as detailed as any sculpture, but without the structural integrity to withstand long bouts with the elements without being treated and kept up. Most of the railings had already fallen away, and the sections that hadn’t, crumbled at the lightest touch. Cracks spread like intricate spiderwebs over the clay flooring. Stepping too close to these spots produced a sound like grinding stone. Nick and Judy kept as close to the cliff walls as they could, just in case.

But hugging the wall posed it's own set of dangers. Most of the doors to the apartments had been broken down, either by time or looters, leaving Nick and Judy exposed each time they passed a doorway.

"Should we be searching the rooms?" whispered Judy.

"That would take all night. And we still might not find them." Nick poked his head into another dark entryway and flicked on his flashlight. Clear white light illuminated a set of dusty and dilapidated furniture Judy would have been too scared to sit on.

"I think our best bet is to call it in and keep going," said Nick. "We can have backup come in behind us and search more thoroughly."

"But what if we miss Ray or the Corsacs?"

Nick swept his flashlight to the left and then to the right, revealing more broken doors to other rooms and a small kitchenette. "If either are hiding up here, they won't be able to get away without us seeing them. There are only two exits." He nodded to the opposing stairways.

He was right. As much as Judy hated passing over possible hiding places, if they dawdled inside these rooms, their quarry could find an opening and get away.

So Judy called Clawhauser and gave him an update, asking for reinforcements as soon as could be. Then they continued on.

The place was certainly atmospheric. Wind whistled with all the fury of a squall without the rain and coyotes howled in the distance, a mournful echo so high up in the canyon. More than once Nick shined his flashlight into a room, startling or freezing or ducking away from the doorway, hissing to Judy, " _Carrots_. I think there's something in there." But it was always nothing. The glint of light off a busted television, their own foggy reflections in a dirt-caked mirror, the shiny carapaces of two long-dead but perfectly placed beetles that in the dark looked like a pair of eyes.

Nick shuddered. "It's so creepy up here. It's like that movie. Poltergoose."

Judy slid him a look. "Nicholas Wilde, don't tell me you're afraid of ghosts."

"Who, _me_?" Nick stuck his nose into the air with a disdainful snort. "Please. Foxes know better than to believe in something so ridiculous."

"Uh-huh."

They passed a few more apartments. Judy casually extended a paw, lightly dragging her tiny claws against the stone. The scratching noise sent Nick springing away from the doorway. " _What was that?_ "

Judy bit her lip. Nick scowled and shook his flashlight at her. "Not funny, Carrots."

Judy smothered a laugh, but sobered as another gust of wind nearly lifted her off her feet. Nick caught her by the arm and tugged her over so she was shielded by both him and the wall.

Judy swallowed and gave him a shaky nod. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

They managed to make it to the end of the breezeway without any other incidents. And, unfortunately, without finding a single suspect.

"Now what?" asked Nick, pocketing his flashlight and edging as close as he dared to the balcony railing so he could take a peek over. It was like looking down into Little Rodentia. Even the camels strutting the streets below looked like long-legged gerbils from this height. Judy could make out the Palm Hotel and Casino in the far distance, a glowing monument surrounding by the twinkling lights of the other buildings.

"I think I see cruiser lights down there," said Nick. "Should we stay here and wait for them?"

Judy chewed her lip as she debated. "The stairs on this end look like they wrap around," she told him. "I think it might be worth checking it out."

Nick walkied to their backup and told them to wait at the front stairwell, just in case their fugitive friends were around and decided to make a break for it once Nick and Judy were out of sight. Then they headed down the stairs.

The steps were more sheltered on this side, less eroded than those out front. It led them down to the backside of the building where the canyon butted up against the climate wall that served as the boundary to Tundratown, separated by a single slice of beaten up road used only by maintenance crew and shipping trucks.

This close to the climate wall, the temperature was sweltering. Heat rippled over them in waves, distorting the very air and making hard to breath. It felt like standing in the mouth of a giant oven on broil, the glowing heating coils bathing everything in a burning red light.

A chain-linked fence topped with razor wire and covered in signs warning animals—KEEP OUT... DANGER... RISK OF DEATH—ran parallel to the road. Considering the roar of pure heat emanating from the climate wall, a fence seemed a bit superfluous a deterrent in Judy's opinion.

"Carrots, look."

Judy tore her eyes away from the giant heater to follow Nick's gaze. Further down the road, half obscured by jagged boulders and forgotten maintenance equipment, sat a truck. It was a long white shipping truck, sleek, without any graphics advertising the company. Its back door was up, and inside Judy could just make out the slouched, slumped, and sprawled bodies of three familiar foxes with their tell-tale cream colored fur. None of whom were moving.

The Corsacs. They had found them!

Judy started forward, but Nick put a paw on her shoulder, halting her. He whispered, "Where's Ray?"

As if summoned into being, the raccoon appeared from around the other side of the truck. There was a spring in his step and he stopped to admire his caught quarry: paws on hips, quiet laughter hissing through his teeth.

"There he is," said Judy. Sprinting forward with Nick right behind her, she yelled out, "Ray Raqune! You are under arrest!"

Ray whirled, smile twisting into a snarl as he spotted the officers. He dove into the back of the truck, ducking behind an unconscious Reynard, turned, and pulled out a gun.

He aimed at Judy.

Judy saw it and leapt to the right, taking cover behind a pile of debris. There was a loud pop and then a muffled thunk as a tranquilizer dart struck the ground inches away from her foot. A second later Nick dove in behind her, another dart pinging off the scrap metal above them.

"Why didn't you tell me he was armed?" said Nick.

"Because he wasn't before!" said Judy.

"He must have gotten some tips from his mole friend. I'm _really_ starting to hate these guys."

Judy couldn't help but agree. Quickly, she pulled out her walkie and radioed for their backup. In her head, she tried to guess how long it would take to make there way back to them.

Too long.

Nick had pulled out his own tranq gun. It was standard issue, same as Judy's. They had both checked one out at the station before heading over, just in case.

"Should I try and take a shot?" he asked.

Keeping her ears folded safely back, Judy peeked out, estimating the distance. She ducked back down and shook her head. "Better not. I'm almost positive Ray took down the Corsacs with his own tranquilizers. If you miss and hit Reynard or one of the others, you risk double-dosing them. Another shot could kill them. Especially if we're mixing our serum with whatever Ray is using."

She looked down at her walkie, as if by staring at it it would magically turn on and tell her backup had arrived with miraculous swiftness.

It stayed quiet.

"If only I could somehow make it to the truck, I know I could take him down," she said.

"How sure are you on that?" asked Nick.

She looked up. "Pretty sure. Why?"

"Because I think I have an idea. A way to get you to the truck without being shot."

"How?"

Nick held out his arms, both in invitation and answer.

Judy gaped at him. "No. No way."

"It'll work."

"It's too dangerous. We don't know what's in those darts Ray's using, but they took down all of the Corsacs, and that couldn't have been easy."

"My point exactly," said Nick. "Mo's darts messed you up enough. You can't risk getting hit with one of these. But I can keep you covered long enough to make it to Ray and take him down."

"I am not using you like some kind of walking shield!"

"It's called teamwork, Carrots. And really, out of the two of us, you'll be the one taking the bigger risk here. Once I'm down you'll be on your own until backup gets here. I'm the one who will have the easier part of the job. You know that's how I like it." He didn't look like he particularly liked it, however. The corners of his mouth were turned down and his brow was tightly pinched.

"And what if whatever is in those darts is deadly?" demanded Judy. "For all we know the Corsac's are on their last breaths right now."

"I'm a cop," said Nick. "It's a chance I'll just have to take."

She didn't like the way he said that. It nibbled at a recent memory, a time when he’d made a similar statement.

She chanced another peek around their hiding spot, jerking back when Ray fired off another shot, kicking up dirt just to her right.

"We can't keep arguing about this," said Nick. "The longer we stay here, the more likely Ray is to make a break for it. If he goes for the front cab now we won't be able to stop him before he drives away. We have to make a choice now. Carrots."

" _I'm thinking_."

But she wasn't coming up with anything. They couldn't wait for backup. They couldn't use their guns. They had nothing to use as cover. The road between their hiding spot and the truck was completely exposed.

Nick held out his arms for her.

Judy had fantasized about being welcomed into Nick’s embrace more times than she cared to admit, but this was nothing like the fantasy. Trapped behind a pile of rubble with an armed assailant about to get away. Panting from the overwhelming heat and soaked to the skin in sweat. Both of them wired with adrenaline and a good dose of fear—for each other, for themselves, for the foxes they had yet to save.

It was the last that finally made Judy cave. The Corsacs needed them. No matter what the foxes may have done in the past, they were victims now, and it was Nick and Judy's responsibility to save them.

Judy hopped into Nick's arms, tucking herself into the smallest ball that she could. Nick gathered her close, arms wrapping around her in protective bands, one paw splayed across her side, the other cradling her lower back, just above the tuft of her tail, his chin ducking to cover her head.

He ran.

Scrunched up against him as she was, Judy couldn't see anything. But she could still feel things: the thumping of Nick's heart, the softness of his fur under her cheek and the pounding of his feet against the stone as he raced forward. The heat radiating from his body and the muscles in his arms, holding her steady as he ducked and dodged. And she could still hear: The sounds of gunfire from Ray, the scratch of Nick's claws as he pushed himself even faster, the puff of his breath and the echoing whoosh of his lungs. They had to be close by now. Maybe Ray was a worse shot than they'd thought. Maybe Nick would make it the entire way, and they could take the Raccoon down together, easy. And then they would save the Corsacs, and _finally_ this case would be solved and then—

Nick grunted and stumbled and Judy's heart lurched. She had a moment of hope, as he recovered and pressed onward, that maybe he had just tripped, but two steps more and his gate turned wobbly. His grip on her began to weaken. He shifted his hold, one paw sliding under her feet to give her purchase.

"Ge’ r'dy, Car’ts," he slurred, and Judy had to push back both her worry for her partner and her anger that she'd caved to such a ridiculous plan in the first place, because the next thing she knew Nick was lifting her, and suddenly she could see again. There was Ray in the truck, right in front of them, his beady eyes furious and mouth gaping at finding them still coming after him even after getting off a successful shot. But he had either run out of darts or lost his nerve, because instead of shooting at them again he turned and fled deeper into the back of the truck.

"Three!" yelled Nick, and shoved Judy up at the same time she leapt.

Even drugged, Nick's aim was true. Judy stretched out her feet and struck Ray square in the back, sending him sprawling over Todd's limp form. Judy landed in a tumble and coming up on her feet a short distance next to him.

Ray rolled onto his back, bringing up his gun, and Judy knocked the weapon away with one hard kick. She then reached for her own weapon, but the raccoon lunged at her with angry hiss, all claws and teeth, and Judy was forced to throw up her arms to protect her face, ducking away and biting off a cry when she felt a sharp swipe across her back, tearing through cloth and fur.

A strong paw grabbed her by the ear, yanking hard enough to pull Judy off her feet. She let herself go with the momentum, coming up and grabbing hold of the raccoon's wrist. She bit down with all her strength. Ray let out a pain-filled screech and tossed her away. Judy hit the wall of the truck hard enough to knock the air from her lungs and snap her head back, her vision exploding in a swarm black sparkles. She slumped, dazed and wheezing, feeling the burn of overheated metal against her back, knowing she needed to move but without the energy to do it.

"Stupid… bunny…" Ray gasped, clutching his injured wrist. "If the money… wasn't so good…"

As Judy struggled to suck in air and collect herself, Ray grabbed her by the front of her kevlar vest and half-dragged, half-rolled her out of the back of the truck. Judy had just enough sense to throw up her paws to keep from smacking face-first into the asphalt. But she still knocked her head hard enough to set her ears ringing.

The world fell still.

It seemed to take Judy forever to flip herself onto her back. When she finally managed it, gulping air and blinking back the last of the black sparkles marring her vision, she found herself staring up into the face of Marian Corsac.

The eldest fox was curled up against the wall of the truck, head lolling against one shoulder, but awake. Heavy-lidded eyes looked down at Judy, focus glazed but aware. She said a name—one word, two syllables, ending in an _-en_ sound.

Robin? Craven?

Then Ray was there, yanking Marian back. The fox went, unprotesting, her eyes fluttering shut. Judy scrambled with nerveless paws for her tranquilizer gun, but she was too slow. The truck door slammed down, locking her out—and locking the Corsac's in.

Judy grabbed for the bumper, using it to haul herself up. By the time she had steadied herself enough to let go the engine was coughing to life, black exhaust exploding from the muffler. The truck began pulling away Judy stumbled after it, gun raised, but she was too spent to give chase and she couldn't get an angle on Ray, who was nicely ensconced in the front of the truck with his windows smartly up. Out of pure frustration, Judy shot the back tire, but the dart was too small to do anything but stick to the rubber.

She fumbled to get her walkie out and radioed it in. She told them to watch the maintenance roads, gave them the license plate number and a description of the truck, then hobbled back to Nick.

He was sprawled out on his back, chest rising and falling with each straining breath. The red glow from the climate wall made him look bathed in blood.

He squinted up at Judy. "Did we get'em?"

Shame twisted Judy's insides. He had trusted her to catch Ray, sacrificed himself in order for her to do it, and she had failed. Spectacularly. He had taken the shot for nothing. Judy fisted her paws and shook her head.

"Oh. S'ok, you'll get'em next time." That was it. No blaming, no worry. Being drugged to the gills might’ve had something to do with it, but Judy thought it was more because it was Nick.

"You al'right?"

No. She was not all right. And it had nothing to do with the scratches on her back that burned like fire or the throbbing of her one ear where Ray had twisted it. But she said, "I'm fine. How are _you_ feeling?" He was still awake. She took that as a good sign.

"Cool as a pawpsicle. Get it? _Paw_ -psicle?" He gave a breathless chortle. " _P_ awpsicle. Paw _p_!" He popped the P loud enough to echo off the canyon walls.

Judy let herself collapse down next to him. She hadn't meant to go down so hard, but the waves of heat were relentless here and she was starting to feel a bit dizzy. She really should move them to somewhere a bit more sheltered. But the climate wall stretched on for miles in both directions and she didn't have the strength to tackle the stairs again, especially not with Nick in tow. The best she do was put her back to the climate wall and block Nick from as much of it as she could.

She took his paw in her own and checked his pulse. A bit fast, but steady and strong. It helped her to relax a fraction more.

"Carrots," said Nick, and there was whine in his voice now. "Carrots, I think I'm melting."

Judy smiled despite herself. She patted her partner's chest, right above the grinning Chief Bogo, who was now a shade darker and slightly damp. "Don't worry, you're not melting. We'll get you someplace cooler soon, I promise. Just rest."

In the distance, two officers were racing down the last few flights of stairs.

The cavalry at last.

She wiped at her own sweat-drenched fur, feeling a droplet roll from her temple down to her chin. Nick tracked it with wide eyes, his pupils blown. "Oh no. Carrots, are you melting too?"

What had Ray shot him with? Before she could reassure Nick that no, she wasn't melting either, he let out another rasping chuckle. "Melting like a bunny pawpsicle."

He rose up then, with more speed than Judy would've expected from him, and before she could stop him or ask him what he was doing, his tongue darted out and he licked up the drop from off her chin.

Judy sucked in a breath.

Nick sighed and collapsed back onto the ground, oblivious to his partner's shocked silence. His eyes fell shut as he shuffled himself around into a more comfortable position, stretching and rubbing his shoulders against the asphalt, mumbling, "Waiter... Waiter, there's fur on my pawpsicle… I'm gonna need some free coupons…"

His head hit her leg and Judy watched, eyes wide, as he chuffed and burrowed his nose under her knee, half curling around her feet. One heavy paw flopped across her lap. His tail brush her back, fur sticking to her sweaty shirt.

"Judy?" he asked, and the sudden lostness in his voice threw her almost as much as the use of her first name.

"Yes, Nick?" She could feel his breath on the inside of her knee. It made it hard to focus.

"I don't want it to be a hustle."

"What do you mean?"

No answer. Judy looked again for the other officers. They had finally made it down the stairs and were heading their way, looking more than a little winded from their run. She returned her focus to her partner. "Nick? What do you mean? You don't want _what_ to be a hustle?"

Still no answer.

Concerned, she shifted away a bit to reveal Nick's face. Her partner's eyes were closed, his features lax in sleep, breathing even. The drug had finally won out.

Judy sighed and relaxed back, giving his head a pet because she could. Wondering, and worried.


	9. Chapter 9

It took Nick a while to realize that he didn't know where he was. But even when he finally did realize it, he found that it didn't matter.

Beneath his feet was a glossy redwood floor, above him a single beam of light, it's source unknown. The rest of the ceiling was a blanket of black. If there were walls, they were hidden somewhere in the darkness where the light couldn't reach.

Music echoed around him, some pop track that Finnick wouldn't be caught dead listening to. The sound was muffled and tinny, the lyrics unintelligible, either from distance, or poor speakers, or both.

But none if it mattered. Not the place—or lack of knowledge thereof—and certainly not the music.

Because Judy was in his arms, and they were dancing.

They flowed across the polished floor in perfect sync, just like they had that night at the bar. Only this time there was no one to get in their way or interrupt their steps. No one to ruin the moment with obnoxious questions and too-straight ears.

They danced in and out of the light, sometimes skirting its edges, other times cutting straight through the middle of it, like a spotlight made just for them.

At one point, Nick swung Judy around in a spin that took them both by surprise. It swept them out into the darkness like an undertow made of air, and for a few thrilling seconds they danced their way along, blind and searching, gripping each other just a little bit tighter, breathing just a little bit faster, before they both broke at the same time and pulled each other back into the light.

Their pace slowed then. Their steps, now sure, became lighter. They looked at each other and laughed and the question was in both their eyes— _again?_ —and so they did, plunging back into the darkness for another exhilarating turn.

Nick didn't know how long they danced. No one ever came to tell them it was time to go and the music never stopped its catchy tune. But his feet didn't tire and Judy stayed with him step for step. Sometimes she led him, other times he led her. Not a battle of wills, but an alliance.

Judy spun away from him, the tips of her ears dipping into the shadows, the sequins of her purple dress sparkling like flecks of amethyst. She was spirited and sweet and fierce in her joy, and Nick could only stare, dazzled.

She smiled at him, a sly, knowing thing, and twirled back into his arms, and for a beat Nick simply held her there against him, savoring the moment and the fact that the fear he usually felt when they got this close was absent for once. He felt safe here, in this place that had no eyes to judge them. Where he didn't have to worry about the answers Judy gave him.

She looked up at him from under her long lashes, her eyes a darker shade of violet than he could ever remember them being. Her lips were slightly parted, revealing the blunt tips of her endearingly oversized front teeth.

"Wow," she said, her voice echoing in the empty space, and Nick agreed. _Wow_ felt like the accurate word for it.

"You are one hot dancer, Nicholas Wilde."

Nick smiled and pulled her closer, gratified when she melted against him. "You're not so bad yourself, Carrots."

She plucked at a button on his suit. "I'm impressed."

"Well I _was_ number one in my dance class. Not to brag or anything."

One tiny paw slid up, ghosting over his collar and catching him by the back of the neck. It was impossible to misunderstand what she was angling for, and Nick was only too happy to let her pull him down to her level. "You. Are. One. Hot. Dancer. Nicholas Wilde."

"I really must be if it makes you repeat yourself," teased Nick. He could feel her breath against his cheek, and he wondered if he should give up the game and turn his head, or if he should stretch the moment out a little more and torture them both.

"I'm impressed." Her voice warbled, like a song skipping on its track, and Nick felt a pinprick of foreboding, like a needle between his shoulder blades.

He tipped his head, just enough to look at her. Judy's arms were frozen around his neck, those giant eyes staring at him, unblinking.

Nick frowned down at her. "Carrots?"

"You are one hot dancer, Nicholas Wilde."

“Judy? What's—"

The music stuttered and then restarted. Still the same pop tune. The light blinked-blinked above him and when Nick looked up, for a moment he saw a ceiling superimposed over the empty blackness, with harsh lighting and cheap plastic curtains. The kind that came on rails and were used to give a patient the illusion of privacy. He had seen curtains like those somewhere just recently…

"Wow." Judy was still standing there, head tilted as if remaining prepared for his kiss. She hadn't followed his gaze or reacted at all to the weird ceiling that was blink-blinking in and out of existence. "I'm impressed."

But she didn't sound impressed. Her voice had all the inflection of a cheap computer program, now that he listened closer. The pitch was off and the words were garbled. When she spoke, her lips didn't even move.

"You are one hot dancer, Claw-Hauser."

Nick flinched, breaking away from the embrace, and Judy let him go, unresisting. Above them, the light flickered again. Blink-blink.

_"Officer Wilde?"_

"I'm impressed."

_"You awake?"_

"Wow."

The words echoed off the nonexistent walls, overlapping into a cacophonic mess of sound and Nick tried to cover his ears, but he couldn't seem to lift his arms up enough to manage it.

"Carrots?" he said, but Judy was gone now, and in her place was Clawhauser, wearing a pair of skimpy shorts. The kind favored by Gazelle's backup dancers. His big spotted belly overflowed from the garment's waistband.

"Officer Wilde?"

Nick lurched back into consciousness with a strangled shout. Clawhauser, who had been peering down at Nick in concern, flailed backwards in surprise. " _Oh my goodness_."

Nick gripped the cold metal railing of his bed and struggled to orientate himself. He was in a semi-private hospital room. A half-pulled curtain partly hid another bed next to his own, but it was empty. There was a roll away table and a matching chair to Clawhauser's over by the window, where one had a lovely view of an overcast parking lot.

And still, the pop song from his dreams _kept_ _playing_.

Clawhauser—fully dressed, thank goodness—was clutching his phone in front of him like he feared Nick might have gone feral and might need to use the device as a shield. On the screen, Gazelle bopped along on stage with a tiger back-up dancer that had Clawhauser's face superimposed overtop the other feline's.

Nick groaned and closed his eyes. "Turn it off."

"Huh?"

" _That_ _app_. Turn it off, for the love of blueberries."

"Oh. Sure. Sorry."

The music cut off, leaving them for a moment in blissful silence.

Then, "How are you feeling?"

"Where—" Nick's voice cracked. He felt like he had inhaled a desert. He wanted a drink, but the cup and pitcher next to his bed were both empty.

"Hospital," Clawhauser answered promptly, and way too cheerfully in Nick's opinion. "Oh, but don't worry! I was told to assure you that you are going to be completely fine! The tranquilizer dart you were shot with was a simple blend of… well…" The cheetah scratched at his chin with a sheepish smile. "I can't quite remember the medical terms for them. Sorry, they all had really long names. But let's just say it was like you took a few too many happy pills. That's how Officer Hopps explained it to me, anyway."

Judy.

Nick cracked one eye open to take in the room again, thinking he had missed seeing her there somehow. But no, it was just him and Clawhauser.

Nick tried very hard not to feel disappointed.

"I was told to make you stay here and rest for as long as I could," said Clawhauser, dropping back into his seat by the bed. "Which Officer Hopps admitted would probably not be very long."

"Where is Carrots?"

"Oh, she's been bouncing in and out of here all morning," said Clawhauser. "Checking up on you and then scurrying back out. I expect she'll be in again soon. Should I call her?"

"No. I'm sure she's busy."

"You missed breakfast." The cheetah gave him this news in the same grave tone he might've used to tell Nick, _they couldn't save the tail_. "But I'll let the nurse know you're awake and maybe they can get you some lunch, huh?"

Nick didn't want lunch; he wanted out of here. He wanted to know where Judy was, what she was doing, and what _he_ needed to be doing in order to help her. It certainly wasn't lying around in this bed, as much as he would have enjoyed a lazy day off.

He thought back to last night, but his memories turned fuzzy after being shot. He vaguely recalled Judy telling him that Ray had gotten away. And by her crestfallen expression, he thought it was safe to assume that the raccoon had taken the Corsacs with him. But the rest was a blur of hazy impressions and the sensation of overwhelming heat. Nick usually didn't mind the desert. Had spent quite a bit of time there over the years, as a matter of fact. But being that close to the climate wall had been a grueling experience, even for him.

No wonder he was so thirsty.

Clawhauser buzzed for the day nurse, who turned out to be a sheep with tiny eyes and a full-body shearing job that had Nick doing a double-take.

"What do they call this kind of style?" he asked him. "The sanitation cut?"

Those tiny eyes narrowed at him. "Swim team."

"Well it certainly brings out your… bones. Very slimming."

Clawhauser made a very feline _ack_ noise in the back of his throat and popped out of his chair.

"Please don't mind him," he said, shoving Nick back against the pillows and pinning him there when he tried to rise back up. "He was drugged last night. It was very traumatic for him."

A dismissive _bah_ was the nurse's only response.

Nick submitted to a check up without a fuss, but drew the line at staying the rest of the day.

"At least let them bring you lunch," pleaded Clawhauser. But Nick was already reaching for his clothes.

"No lunch. Just the discharge papers, please."

The nurse acquiesced without argument—or much in the way of caring. This suited Nick perfectly but had Clawhauser fretting.

"What will Officer Hopps say?"

"Carrots isn't here to say anything," said Nick, and then had to clench his jaw as the reminder struck him with a bolt of hurt. Was he really going to be such a needy kit about this? It was embarrassing, and _so_ not something a cool fox like him should be bothered by. So what if he had stayed with _her_ in her time of need. She had important things to do. More important things than sitting around in this depressing hospital room watching Nick sleep. There were criminals to track down... Other foxes to save... fancy-schmancy bunnies to go interview... probably.

Nick stopped halfway through buttoning his shirt. "Wait. This wasn't what I was wearing last night."

"Huh? Oh, Hopps brought that for you this morning on one of her visits," said Clawhauser. "Said it would be too cruel to make you wear the clothes again. I guess she thought they were too dirty or something."

"Judy did?" Nick look down at the blue button-up, which was mercifully free of both ZPD advertising and their boss's face. It wasn't that the action itself was surprising—his partner had alway been disgustingly thoughtful—but how far it went in making him feel better. Stupid to be so happy about it. Dangerous, too. But knowing that it was stupid and dangerous didn't stop his hurt from dissipating.

"This is my third ruined shirt in two days," he told Clawhauser as he finished getting dressed. "The ZPD should start insuring my wardrobe."

"Why do I feel like there's a con in there somewhere?"

Nick's head shot up. Judy had slipped into the room sometime while his back had been turned. Their gazes met and there was a silent apology in her eyes.

And just like that, Nick forgave her.

"That's because you've been hanging around me too long," he said to her. "And what's the deal with you suddenly watching me change all the time? Are we going to have to talk about boundaries, Fluff?"

Clawhauser's eyes stretched to elephant-saucer size. Judy just raised an eyebrow, parrying, "Said the fox who took me to a naturalist club."

Nick winked. "That was just part of the Zootopian experience."

"I'd hate to find out what the rest of the experience entails."

"Scared, rabbit?"

"I… should I go?" asked Clawhauser.

Judy shot the cheetah an apologetic smile. "No, you're fine, Clawhauser. We'll stop."

She had also changed into fresh clothes, Nick saw. Another uniform, of course. She had an iced fruit drink in one paw and a bag of something delicious smelling in the other.

She held out the drink to Nick. "Thought you might be thirsty," she said. "I know I was."

Nick accepted the cup eagerly. He took a long, deep pull on the straw. The drink was smooth and icy and flavored with extra blueberries. Liquid bliss.

Judy watched him, pursing her lips around a smile. She glanced over at Clawhauser. "So you couldn't keep him in bed any longer, huh?"

The oversized cheetah shook his head. "Sorry."

She patted his elbow, the highest part of him she could reach. "That's okay. I expected as much anyway." To Nick, she said, "If you feel okay after finishing that I have some food for you, too."

"Is she the best partner or what?" Nick asked Clawhauser.

Judy's bright smile faltered. Nick looked at her in concern. "Carrots? You okay?"

"Yeah, of course." Her smile returned. But Nick, who knew a thing or two about faking good humor, wasn't fooled.

She started to run a paw over her ears, then winced and dropped her arm. "I don't suppose I can convince you to go get some more rest at home?" she asked him.

Nick tossed his empty cup into the garbage bin and took the food bag from his partner, turning her by the shoulders and nudging her out into the hallway. "I don't supposed you could. Clawhauser, it's been… a morning. You are free to go now."

"If you're sure…” said the cheetah.

"Thank you for watching over him for me," said Judy, ignoring Nick's grumbles about it having been unnecessary, and shared a very soft fist bump with the giant cat.

"Anytime, my fluffy friend," said Clawhauser.

Nick followed Judy out to the visitor parking lot, munching on the snack she'd brought him, which turned out to be fried grasshoppers. Delicious.

"So what have you been up to all morning?" he asked as they clambered into the cruiser.

"You mean besides running you your clothes and lunch?"

"Besides that," agreed Nick. "Which this fox is very thankful for, by the way."

"Well, I know how poorly you work in grimy clothes and on an empty stomach," teased Judy. "It was purely a selfish move on my part."

Nick's lips twitched. "Of course. So, besides that?"

"Besides that, let's see…" Instead of starting the car, Judy leaned back in her seat, ticking things off on her fingers. "My parents called. They're already on their way home. Turns out there's a storm northwest of Zootopia that should reach us by dinnertime. They want to make it back before it hits."

Nick could believe it. The sky was darkening even as they spoke.

"And I went to check on Craven."

Nick could tell by the way her ears drooped that the news wasn't good. "Still no change?"

She shook her head.

"But he hasn't gotten any worse. That's something."

Judy shrugged one shoulder. "I guess."

"Anything else? I assume you would've told me already if there had been any developments in the case," said Nick.

"Nothing developed enough," said Judy. "One weird thing… the report on the illegal burrow came in. Our analysts are saying it wasn't dug by a fox at all, but some kind of lagomorph."

"I think you slipped into tongues there at the end, Carrots. A what now?"

She clutched the steering wheel. "A bunny."

Nick absorbed that. He said only, "Huh."

"And I visited the government offices. Asked around about Mrs. Hopson's will."

"And? Anything?"

"Nothing. Something is fishy there, but it'll take a more detailed investigation than we have time for right now. I talked to Chief Bogo about it, and he agreed to have a team look into it, but it won't help us find the Corsacs."

"Has there been any sign of them?"

"No." Judy's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "There are no good security cameras on those service roads, as you know, so there's no way to track where Ray went that way. The smart money is on Tundratown. There's a connecting tunnel less than a mile from where we were, and what better place to hide a white truck than in a district that's snowbound? Finding it, even with security cameras, will be near to impossible."

"And if he's smart, he's already swapped out the plates or ditched the vehicle entirely," said Nick.

"Exactly," said Judy. "And even if he hasn't, there's still that storm. That means flood watches everywhere and a blizzard for Tundratown. It'll be too dangerous to search during that, which means leaving the Corsacs in the clutches of whoever took them for at least another day."

"I think _clutches_ is a bit melodramatic," said Nick.

Judy closed her eyes and tipped her head back against the seat. "They were taken for a reason, and it can't have been a good one. Every second that we wait is another second that something bad could happen to them. And now we're out of leads, and with this _stupid_ _weather_ —" She broke off, throat working. Her next words came out thick. "It's all my fault."

"Whoa, hey," said Nick. "Time out there, Carrots. This is _not_ your fault. What kind of dumb bunny talk is that?"

"It is my fault." She looked over at him, and Nick was horrified to see tears in her eyes. "I don't know what happened, Nick. But I flinched and he had me."

"You mean Ray?"

"I've caught so many criminals who were bigger than that—that— _dumb_ raccoon. Better fighters too. But I had to fail _this_ time, when three innocent lives were on the line. And now it feels like there's this… invisible clock in my head, ticking down. But all I can hear is the ticking and I have no idea when time is suddenly going to run out and the Corsac's will be—"

"Carrots, hey. Stop it. Calm down." Nick caught Judy by the shoulder, turning her towards him. The poor bunny had been running around all morning, trying to take care of him _and_ save those wayward foxes, all the while trying to battle off all this guilt. And here Nick had been moping because—why? Because she hadn't stayed at the hospital with him? Because she'd left Clawhauser to behind to watch him?

_Petty, selfish, fox._

"Listen to me, Carrots. You are not responsible for any of this, ok?" he told her. "That's now how this job works. We don't make the criminals commit the crimes. And we're not responsible when curveballs suddenly get thrown at us. We get a case, and we do our best to solve it and help those we can. But sometimes we fail and that's just how it goes."

"But we never fail," said Judy, and Nick had to smile at that, because she was right. Every case they'd gotten, they had solved. And they had yet to have any victims die on their watch who hadn't already been dead at the initial scene of the crime.

But it was only a matter of time until they got a case that went cold, when there would be victims they couldn't save. Nick wasn't looking forward to it, but he had known and prepared himself before he'd started this job.

Judy, on the other hand… Though he was sure she had done the math and realized the sheer improbability of never failing a case in her career, she was determined and optimistic by nature, something that was actually hurting her now that she was being forced to look reality in the eye and admit: they might not win this one.

Nick used to claim enjoyment in watching the disillusionment of others. Something about misery loving company, perhaps. In truth, the satisfaction had always been a bitter one. _Now you see what I see,_ he would think as he watched the hope bleed from the animals’ eyes. _Now you know how I feel._ And then he would hurt for them the same way he hurt for his little kit self before he crammed all the emotions down and walked away.

And yeah, the whole thing was entirely unhealthy and twisted, Nick knew that. And he liked to think he was working on it—though on his more cynical days he wondered if he was just happier now, and not so much becoming any better a mammal.

Either way, he took no pleasure in destroying an animal's dreams anymore. And the sight of Judy, his partner and best friend, losing faith like this before his eyes was nothing short of agonizing to watch.

"You're right," said Nick, catching her eye again when her gaze started to fall. "We _don’t_ ever fail. Which says that we are the best at what we do. So if we happen to lose this one—which hasn't happened yet, by the way, rabbit—then that means it was impossible to begin with. Because no one could have done better or tried harder than us."

At least the shameless bragging got a smile out of her.

"But don't count us out just yet, Carrots," Nick told her. "Because this case is far from over."

A tear broke free, wetting the fur of Judy's cheek. "But now the Corsacs are missing. Anything could be happening to them."

"Yes... But considering those darts Ray used weren't fatal, my guess is that even if whoever took the Corsacs are planning to kill them eventually, they must be planning it for a later time. Which gives _us_ time. So hit the snooze on that ticking clock of yours, okay?"

Judy nodded, sniffling.

"You have gone above and beyond on this case," said Nick. "Even getting yourself hurt in the process—or did you think I didn't notice that swollen ear you got there, or the way you winced getting in the car? You have _nothing_ to feel guilty about."

"But I do," said Judy.

Nick huffed. "Do I have to explain this again? The Corsacs are not your responsibility—"

"Not the Corsacs," said Judy. "You."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Me? Why would you feel guilty about me?"

Her gaze fell to his shoulder, and though there was nothing to see, he knew she was imagining where the dart had struck him.

"You got shot," she whispered, and to his horror, fresh tears appeared in her eyes. "I _let_ you get shot. I mean—what was I thinking? In what biome would that ever be an acceptable idea?"

"Uh, not that I don't like escaping blame when the opening presents itself, but that brilliant plan was all mine," Nick pointed out.

"But I _agreed_. Partners are supposed to protect each other, even from each others dumb ideas."

"Gee, thanks," drawled Nick.

"You know what I mean."

Nick watched Judy scrub at her face, debating his words.

"Fine. You're right," he said. "Partners are supposed to protect each other. But then I'm guilty too, because I should have thought about how me getting hurt would, uh… upset you."

"Well of course it upsets me!" cried Judy. "Do you think I _like_ seeing you hurt? You're my best friend. I care about you."

Nick rubbed at his neck and looked away, wishing this conversation over and done with. But he had to be honest, because she still looked confused and he owed her the truth. "Sorry, Carrots. I'm still not used to that, I guess. Having someone around who worries." _About me_ , went unspoken. But Judy, the smart bunny, seemed to catch it anyway.

"Dumb fox," she said.

He nodded, allowing that, and let out a surprised, " _Ooph_ ," when Judy sprang over the cup holders and attached herself around his neck.

"Uh… Carrots…"

"Be quiet and let me have this," she told him.

His obligatory reluctance over being hugged having been made and rejected, Nick relaxed and folded his arms carefully around her, mindful of the injury to her back, which he was itching to inspect but not at the cost of the moment. He made sure to sigh as he held her, though, lest she think he was doing this for any other reason besides humoring her.

She buried her face in his neck, her tears from earlier dampening his fur. And even though it hurt, Nick tucked the memory away as a reminder of why he couldn't ruin this. Not with his recklessness, not with his abnormal feelings, not with anything.

Outside the overcast day had darkened substantially. Thunder rumbled in the distance. A few fat drops of rain splattered against the roof and windshield like warning shots. Across the parking lot, Nick spotted a giraffe galloping for his car.

Judy sighed into his fur, and Nick shifted to cover the shiver that ran through him at the sensation. This was no longer just a hug. This was—and Nick could imagine how Finnick would've laughed himself sick over this—this was _cuddling_.

And Judy clearly knew what she was about, because with a few silent pokes and presses she had shifted him into the prefect position to tuck herself against him, folding her knees and curving her back just so, aligning their bodies for maximum comfort and support, and for Nick it was both heaven and torture in one fluffy-tailed package.

Outside, it began to pour.

Nick gritted his teeth and tried to count sheep. But even the image of former Mayor Bellwether trying to hop over a maximum security fence in an orange jumpsuit again and again wasn't distracting enough.

Judy pressed and curled a paw against his shoulder, a single kneading motion that Nick thought would kill him.

Talking. Words. To engage his brain and get his mind off the tempting bit of fluff resting so contentedly against his front.

He meant to bring up something innocuous, but what spilled out of his mouth instead was, "You've done this before, haven't you?"

She snorted into his ruff. "I have over two hundred siblings and they're all giant cuddlers."

"You miss them."

She nodded. "That's why I have—" But she broke off with a guilty look at his face, and suddenly Nick found the perfect distraction.

"That's why you have what?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

Was Officer Judy Hopps… _embarrassed_?

"You slipped up now, Carrots," said Nick. "A tease like that. Now you have to tell me."

"You'll think it's dumb. I know you will."

"Maybe," he said cheerfully. "But you'll tell me anyway."

The dull tips of her claws bit into his skin, just a bit. But if she was going for punishing, it had the opposite effect.

"Come on, Carrots. Spill."

She grumbled but shifted so that her face was no longer buried against his throat. She tucked herself under his chin, and Nick adjusted his hold so that his paw didn't accidentally slip and touch her tail. He was new at this cuddling thing, but that seemed like boundary one didn't cross without permission.

It was tempting though.

Luckily, Judy distracted him again by caving in and admitting, "When I left home, my siblings gave me a bunch of their stuffed bunny toys. Different teddy rabbits and blushies from their rooms. And when I get lonely sometimes at night I take them out and—"

"Cuddle with them?"

Judy covered her face in her paws.

That was so disgustingly adorable Nick didn't know if he could stand it.

Judy peeked up at his face and groaned. "I shouldn't have told you."

"Carrots. Is that what's in your top right drawer?"

She smacked his shoulder. "Stop smiling like that! You're still not allowed to go in there."

"But what if I need an emergency cuddle bunny? I mean _buddy_."

"You're terrible." But there was laughter in her voice.

Much better.

"Well if you won't let me borrow your toys in my time of need, I guess I'll just have to make do with what I have then, won't I?" he said, reaching for her.

Judy let out a startled laugh and made a half-hearted attempt to evade his grasp, but he caught her to him and she fell back against his chest, giggling and shoving as he rubbed his cheek against her.

"I don't think cuddle bunnies are supposed to squirm this much," said Nick, shoving away a foot so he could nuzzle her ear. "Stay still, cuddle bunny. Can't you see I'm trying to cuddle you here?"

"You're a menace!" gasped Judy.

He let out playful growl, second-guessing the wisdom of it only after the fact. But Judy didn't so much as tremble. She continued her easy batting at his paws, her smile bright, and Nick dipped his head to nuzzle behind her ear, taking a deep breath of sweet bunny and fresh blueberries and _Judy_.

_My bunny._

Judy froze, her ears swiveling around at the sound, her laughter cutting off so fast that for a moment Nick was terrified he had actually spoken the thought aloud. She sprang from his hold in a hasty escape that had her banging into the driver's side door. One paw went up to touch the place where his mouth had been a moment before, and Nick's stomach plummeted.

He had gone too far. Cuddling had been fine but he just hadn't been able to resist sticking his muzzle where it didn't belong and now he had ruined everything. And after he had just warned himself.

His heart was pounding. He forced himself to breath normally. "What's wrong?" he asked, playing dumb when he already knew. He had freaked her out. Had she felt his mouth on her and realized who— _what_ —she had decided to "cuddle" with? Had some long-delayed revulsion finally kicked in?

Judy had already collected herself and was smiling at him again, but he didn't trust it anymore than he trusted his legs if the worst happened and he needed to escape this cruiser in the next few minutes.

"It's nothing," she told him. And then, looking at him harder, "What's with that face? Really, it's nothing. I just realized that I was probably getting my scent all over you, right? It must have been bothering you." She reached over to brush at his fur, like she could sweep the smell away, all while staying as far back from him as she could. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. You should have said something and I would have left you alone."

Nick felt numb. "What are you talking about?"

"My scent. I know you don't like it."

Now he felt numb _and_ confused. "Where in Zootopia did you get that idea?"

She stopped brushing at him. "When we interviewing Mo. You said I smelled like a bunny to you."

"Carrots… you _are_ a bunny."

"But you said it like you were unhappy about it."

The lightbulb finally clicked on. _Oh_.

Nick blew out a breath, lightheaded with relief. He hadn't scared her away. He didn't repulse her. On the contrary, she was worried that _she_ repulsed _him_.

Nick would have laughed at how ridiculous that worry was, but that would require him to then explain himself, and there was no way on the Great Turtle's back he was going to admit to her that in truth he liked the way she smelled _too_ much.

"I don't mind it, Carrots. Really," he said.

Her expression was disbelieving. "You were rubbing your nose that night at the bar after we… danced."

Her stutter over the word 'dance' made Nick's tail twitch. Probably because using the term "dancing" to describe what they had been doing was so inaccurate as to be a lie.

And she knew it.

Nick was good at working out puzzles, mysteries, even sticky questions. But the second he realized his mind was trying to figure out why his partner might be tip-toeing around this particular subject, he shoved all his curiosity into a box and slammed the lid shut. He didn't want to solve this one.

He didn't dare.

As for her accusations concerning that night, Nick was no more interested in explaining his actions than he was in confessing his fondness for her scent.

So he did what any cornered predator would do.

He went on the attack.

"What about you?" he asked her. "You didn't seem too happy to be told you smelled like a fox. You were pretty upset about it, as I recall."

"I—" She stopped, thinking about it.

Nick didn't push. He leaned against the window, pretending to watch the rain while observing her from the corner of his eye and recovering from the shock she'd just given him. He was confident that he had her but was ready for whatever excuse she tried to throw at him.

Judy looked over at him, and something in her eyes shifted. Oh, boy. This was going to be a doozy, wasn't it?

He waited for it.

"You're right," she said. "I was overreacting."

Nick blinked. "That's it?"

She shrugged and started the car.

"No, really, that's it? You're not even going to try and argue it? After all that fuss you made?" He tsked. "You're slipping, Carrots."

She didn't even pretend to take offense. Her eyes were on the road. Hyper-focused, even for her.

Avoiding him, he realized.

Another mystery.

Nick's tail twitched.

He quickly added it to the box.

* * *

"So what's the plan?" asked Nick.

Judy quirked an eyebrow at him. "I would've thought you'd have already guessed it."

She was currently driving them through Downtown, in the general direction of Sahara Square. She watched as her partner took note of it, but his expression remained neutral. "Do I get a hint?"

"I already gave you one earlier."

"Did you?"

She nodded, flicking on her turn signal. Nick turned it back off. "Don't take Herd Street; you'll be stuck at the crosswalk forever. And I don't remember getting a hint."

Judy drove on to the next block. "You did. When I told you that the burrow had been dug by a bunny. I know what you were thinking, Nick."

"Do you?" Still with zero expression. "Your psychic skills must be on the fritz then, Carrots, because there was no one who came to _my_ mind."

Judy supposed she deserved this reaction, considering the way they had started this case. It still hurt, though. She had thought he knew her better than that. Believed _her_ to be better than that.

"You don't have to play dumb," she told him. "I thought the same thing when I heard it was a bunny who had done it."

"You did?"

Judy stopped for a red light. She used the free moment to turn to Nick.

"Of course I thought it. It's not like it's a great leap to make. And you're not the only one with instincts, you know."

"But like you said—it's not about how we feel. It's about evidence."

There it was again, that feeling of surrealism. Judy wasn't used to arguing from this side of the fence. She didn't like it. Nor did she like being forced to tear down her own argument. That was supposed to be Nick's job. And while she was touched that he had taken her kidnapping so seriously and was trying to use it to become a better cop, this rigid stance on "facts only" was getting old, and wasn't Nick-like at all.

Traffic flew by around them. Rhino's in bulky jeeps and mice in teeny-tiny compact cars that raced by in the road margins. Judy checked the light. The left turn had changed to yellow but their light remained red. There was still time to say it.

"I'm sorry," she told him. "For the things I said that night, when we got this case. I don't think I've actually apologized to you for it yet, and I need to. I was wrong to doubt your abilities just because you suspected someone before I did. You may be a bit cynical—"

Nick snorted.

"But you've never been unfair in your observations of other animals." Judy's smile was self-deprecating. " _I_ can't even claim that."

"You say that like I've never made a mistake," said Nick. "But I'm not perfect either. I was wrong about you, for one."

"No, you had me pegged," disagreed Judy. "You were… painfully accurate."

Nick's ears flattened back. "They were just some cruel snap judgments. Nothing to be impressed by. If I had tried, I would've realized how amazing you were sooner."

He was staring out there window as he said this, so luckily he didn't see the way Judy blushed or bit her lip to stop the stupid smile that wanted to overtake her face. "Nicholas Wilde, did you just give me a proper compliment? And of your own free will? You really have changed, haven't you?"

"It's all this mushy talk you've been making us do lately. It's having a negatively affect, clearly."

The light turned green; Judy drove on.

They made their way through Savannah Central. Construction on new tubing for Little Rodentia slowed traffic to a crawl. Vehicles for taller animals—like elephants and giraffes—were being forced to detour around.

"Well," said Judy. "Compliment aside, my point still stands. I know I can't make you fight for the Corsacs if you don't want to, but I hope you'll trust in your instincts again. Because even if they're not foolproof, they're still the best in the ZPD that I've ever seen, and I think you'd be remiss not to use them."

Nick glanced at her and then down at his paws. The minutes passed. When he finally spoke, it was only to tell her, "We still need a motive."

Not exactly the turnaround response Judy had been hoping for. Still. She had said what she needed to. It was up to Nick now.

She passed by the last of the road work, leaving the construction of bright yellow and red tubing in their rearview.

"Motive," she told him, "is what we're on our way to get."

* * *

They had just reached their destination when Nick's phone rang.

"I don't recognize this number," he said, tilting the phone Judy's way so she could see it.

"I don't either." Judy threw the cruiser into park. "Answer it. Maybe it's Ray with a list of demands."

Nick didn't look half so optimistic, but he answered. "Officer Wilde here."

There was a startled yip that hurt Judy's ears even from the other side of the cruiser, then silence punctuated by soft panting.

"Who is this?" demanded Nick. "You ruptured my ear drum. The least you could do is respond."

"O-officer Wilde?" The voice was soft and quiet and incredibly young. Too young.

"Vixie Swift?" said Nick.

A sniffle. She had both officers' attentions now.

"What's wrong?" said Nick. "Are you hurt?"

There was the sound of fur rubbing across the phone. Nodding, maybe? Or shaking her head?

"Kit, I can't help you if you don't talk to me," said Nick. "Are you injured?"

"No," came the small voice. "I'm not hurt."

But she was still sniffling.

"Are you in any immediate danger?"

"Uh… no. I don't think so."

Both Judy and Nick took a breath.

With less panic and more exasperation, Nick said, "What's going on? Where's Robin?"

"I don't know. Robin's not here."

"Is something happening?"

"I don't know."

Nick gave Judy a pleading look. She gestured for him to keep going.

"Vixie," said Nick. "Why did you call me?"

Silence.

" _Vixie_."

"Robin's not here," she said again.

"Well have you tried calling his phone?"

"This is his phone."

Judy and Nick shared a look.

"Where are you right now?" asked Nick.

"Home." The young fox hiccuped. "I've been home all night and he hasn't come back."

"Robin hasn't?"

More fur rubbing sounds. They interpreted that as a yes.

"Do you know where he went?"

This was apparently the wrong question to ask, because the little kit started to cry. "I don't _know_! I c-can't get to it! The big d-dummy locked it up. Said I couldn't go with him. And now he hasn't come back and it's raining so hard and—"

"All right. All right, Vixie, calm down. It's okay. I'll send some officers over and you can—"

"No! I don't want them to. Can't you come?"

Nick looked helplessly at Judy.

Across the street, Cottontail's factory stood tall against the storm. Gusting wind had joined in with the rain, sweeping the droplets sideways. Each one that splattered against the cruiser's windows felt like a second wasted to Judy. She _had_ to get in that building. She had to find the answers she needed in order to save the Corsacs. She couldn't leave without them.

But Nick wasn't going to abandoned this kit. The apology was already in his eyes when he looked at Judy, his paw clenched around the phone, as if by sheer force of will he might split himself in two and go with them both, and Judy thought: _By all that is great in the Animal Kingdom, help me but I am falling hard for this fox._

"I'll be right over," he told Vixie.

The cruiser shuddered with the force of the wind.

Judy said, "Take the car."

"It's probably nothing."

"She's scared. That already makes it something."

Nick's jaw worked. "I don't want to leave you just because some kit has gotten herself all worked up over some miscommunication with her hapless brother."

"Huh. He didn't strike me as the hapless type. More dashing and romantic."

Nick's expression turned pained. "Really, Carrots?"

So teasing wouldn't work. She went for sincere instead. "You don't have to worry. I can handle this on my own. Go check things out there, and when you're done you can come back and join me here."

He glared at the building across from them. "I should just send someone else. I don't know why I told her I would come. There's no reason that I have to be the one to go."

"She asked for you."

"And?"

"And you want to go."

He scrubbed a paw over his ears. "I am a terrible partner."

"I would argue that, but I don't have the time," said Judy. "So I am just going to state for the record that you are the _least_ terrible partner a bunny could have, and leave it at that."

"I'm leaving you to deal with this alone."

"Because deep down you know I've got this." She patted her uniform. "See? I have my vest on, and I even stuck a tracker onto my belt, just in case. You, on the other hand, are not nearly so prepared."

"I don't think I'll need kevlar to console a single kit. If there were three or four of them, maybe…"

"Har, har." She pointed to the glove box. "At least take the carrot."

Nick shot her a questioning look but did as she asked. He pulled out the waxed vegetable and stared at it. "Carrots, this is…"

Julie shrugged sheepishly. "I got bored last night watching you sleep."

Nick turned it over, inspecting the leafy end, which now sported a circular seam around the stalk and a bit of excess glue. "What did you do to it?"

"I hollowed it out and stuck a tracking device in it. You told me not to lose it. This way I never will."

He shook his head. "Officer Hopps, you never cease to amaze."

The words were teasing, but apparently her dumb bunny heart didn't know the difference, because it still skipped a happy beat. She went on more quickly. "I synced it with our GPS app. Keep it on you, ok? Even upset, Vixie seems like the wily sort."

"Yes, Officer Hopps."

"Oh. Right. The keys." She held them out. Nick took them, expression falling serious.

"I'll come back as soon as I can," he promised.

"I know. Stay safe, okay?"

"Yeah. You too."

Judy really could have used another hug then, but thought she had pushed him enough earlier with her impromptu cuddling time. She hadn't meant to spring that on him—so to speak—but once she'd been in his arms she hadn't been able to resist taking advantage a bit. His long-suffering sigh had made his opinion on the activity clear, but at least he hadn't shoved her off.

In any case, there was no time for hugs anyway. A small troop of animals had appeared from the factory's front doors and had formed a line, struggling to keep hold of their umbrellas and only half-succeeding. All of them were dressed in security team gray. A scowling armadillo stood in the center, his arms crossed and his frown formidable.

"Looks like they sent out the welcome wagon," said Judy.

Nick scowled. "Except they forgot the _welcome_ part of it. Are you sure you don't need me to stay?"

She smiled and patted his arm. "Go rescue your kit. I'll be fine."

Before he could argue or second-guess further, Judy pushed open the door. The wind caught it and snapped it wide, making the hinges creak. Rain immediately started pelting Judy, the seat, the dashboard.

"Are you sure this was just a storm and not, say, a surprise apocalypse?" hollered Nick.

Judy rolled her eyes and got out. Nick slid over and reached for the door. The armadillo saw Nick and bared his teeth.

"Lovely weather we're having," Nick called to him. "Try not to do anything fortunate like drown in it, all right?"

Whatever the armadillo said in response was blown away by the wind.

Nick looked once more at Judy. Then he pulled the door shut.

Judy didn't wait to watch him drive away. She hurried across the parking lot, hopping over as many puddles as she could. The security team had given up on the umbrellas. By the time she reached them, they were all soaked through.

"You the replacement?" That was from the armadillo.

Judy cocked her head at him. "I'm Officer Wilde's partner, if that's what you mean. You must been Arnie." She held out her paw. Water drip-drip-dripped from the end of her smallest claw. "I'm Officer Judy Hopps."

"You're a rabbit."

"I am."

"But your partner is a fox."

"He is."

The armadillo shook his head, flinging water. Judy didn't _think_ he meant to splash her in the face.

She gave up and lowered her paw. "I'm here to see Mr. Cottontail," she told him.

"He's out right now."

"Uh-huh. And is it protocol to greet visitors in a pack like this when your boss is away?" She looked at some of the other guards, surprised to find so many bunnies in the mix. They were all stone-faced, staring past her like she wasn't even there, though they were definitely blocking her from the entrance.

"Just a precaution," said Arnie. "We weren't sure who was in the car."

Had they come out here because they'd expected Nick? Suddenly she was glad he hadn't stayed.

"A cop, I should hope," said Judy lightly. "So are you going to let me in?"

The old armadillo looked her over, and for a moment she thought he would send her away too, bunny or not, but then a badger tapped Arnie on the shoulder and whispered, "She's the one Mr. Cottontail went to meet with the other day. Remember? The clover?"

_Cheese and crackers_ , how embarrassing. She said nothing as the armadillo looked her over again.

Finally, he said, "I'll escort you to Mr. Cottontail's office. You can wait there."

"Thank you."

As they stepped inside the lobby, feet squelching on the pristine floor, Judy asked, "Has there been any problems since the last incident?"

"No." That was it. There was no more talking as he directed her to the elevators and then punched in the code for the top floor. The rest of the security guards broke off, returning to whatever stations they occupied when they weren't trying to run off innocent fox officers.

Soft music played in the elevator's overhead speakers. Judy listened to it as she strove for calm. She wanted nothing more than to lecture the animal standing next to her. Didn't he watch the news? Hadn't he heard about all the good Nick had done since joining the force? Didn't that mean anything to him at all?

But she knew that tearing into him right then wasn't going to change the old armadillo's opinion, and she absolutely had to speak to Mr. Cottontail. And the fastest way to accomplish that was _not_ by ticking off his security guard/bouncer and getting herself tossed out.

So she held her tongue, and her temper, and tried not to drip too much on the floor.

Benjamin Cottontail's office was just as tastefully appointed as the lobby, but with less elegance and more rural accoutrements. One of the walls had been painted what could only be called "barn door" red, and there was a current issue of the farmer's almanac tucked between a copy of _Vanity Fur_ and _Scaly Magazine_ on his side table. His desk was spotless but hand-carved. His bookshelf was divided by subject, of which there seemed to be two: business and self-improvement. All hardbacks.

On the meeting table was a large basket of fruits and vegetables not unlike the kind her parents had brought her on their visit, only Bonnie and Stu would have snubbed the shiny waxed produce featured in this centerpiece.

Arnie returned with hot coffee and a towel for her. As Judy wiped herself down, the armadillo said, "I've contacted Mr. Cottontail. He told me to tell you that he would be right over."

"And right now he's… where, exactly?"

"Out."

Right.

The armadillo left her after that. Judy drank her coffee and paced. Cottontail had an impressive driftwood collection, but a bunny could only stay interested in petrified wood for so long.

She checked her phone. Nick should have reached the Swift's residence by now, but then he still had to trek the mile or so to get to the actual house. She hoped all those trees protected him from the worst of the storm's wrath. The wind was howling now. She could feel the building swaying from the force of it.

By the time Cottontail arrived, Judy's clothes and fur had gone from sopping to merely damp. She had dropped the towel over one of the high-backed meeting chairs so she could sit, but she hopped up again at his entrance.

He looked as impeccable as ever, of course. Not so much as a drop of rainwater stained his gray silk suit. His paw was warm around hers, his smile bright.

"Officer Hopps! It's so good to see you again. I hope you haven't been waiting long. I raced right over when I heard you were here."

"I hope I didn't interrupt anything important for you," said Judy.

"Not at all. I was just finishing up some final preparations for our product's release. Claws crossed that the third time will be the charm, eh?"

"I suppose you've heard the latest news about the Corsacs?"

Cottontail's ears didn't droop so much as swivel backwards in a passing semblance of sympathy. "Yes. Terrible business all around. But you're still on the case, yes? I have total confidence in you. And of course, my offer of help still stands."

"It's a relief to hear you say that," said Judy. "Because I _am_ still on the case, and I could use your help right about now."

"Name it," said Cottontail.

"I know Nick's poked around here already, but I'd like to take a look myself."

"You want to search the factory?"

"If it's all right with you." Otherwise she was going to have to come back with a warrant, and she just didn't have the _time_.

Cottontail's smile faded. "I see. And the evidence you have already isn't enough?"

"We just want to make sure we haven't missed anything important," said Judy. "For both parties' sakes."

The other bunny wasn't frowning, exactly. But his mouth had flattened and his eyebrows pinched low.

"I have nothing to hide," he told her slowly.

"Then a quick search shouldn't matter, should it?" pushed Judy. Literally. She looped her arm through his and started propelling him towards the door. "We really appreciate how accommodating Cottontail Inc. has been with this case. Your cooperation hasn't gone unnoticed. Believe me."

Cottontail shot her a look that said she was going to have to work on her schmoozing if she planned on fooling a billion-dollar business mammal, but he didn't balk as she steered them out into the hallway.

"It's dangerous to just wander about the factory," he said finally. "If you will at least allow me to accompany you?"

As if she had a choice. But still, all the better that he come along. Then she could kill two birds with one stone.

_Maybe this will be easier than I thought._

"That sounds perfect," said Judy.


	10. Chapter 10

Nick’s mood was as black as the sky by the time he reached Robin’s block of the woods. He couldn’t stop imagining all the ways in which Cottonbutt might be trying something nefarious with Judy while he was too far away to stop it. Maybe the flashy bunny had his own tranquilizer gun. The best money could buy, of course. Or worse—he might have armed himself with more of that awful clover. What would Nick do then?

Nothing. There was nothing he could do about the worst case scenario. That’s what made it worst case.

He parked in the same spot as last time. When he got out of the cruiser, he was greeted by a barrage of rain. Luckily, he had found a slicker in the back seat that actually fit after a few rolls and tucks here and there.

Nick yanked up his hood and eyed the small patch of woods grimly.

If the place had looked like a fantasy in clear daylight, this storm had transformed it into a haunted nightmare-scape. Darkness filled the empty spaces like miasma, testing even Nick’s exceptional night vision. The trees shook their sharp, bare limbs at him, and the butterflies had long ago flittered off to find shelter. Even the flowers that had been in full bloom before had either folded up their buds in self defense or had their petals ripped off by the high winds.

There was no sign of Vixie. Considering her panic on the phone, Nick had half-expected her to be waiting for him near the roadside.

Or maybe that had been more of a hope.

He debated calling and telling her to come to him—save him the two-way trek—but then he would still have to wait out in this storm while she made her way over and… maybe she was scared of thunder?

Giving up, Nick made a run for the trees. The moment he ducked under the forest’s canopy, the pounding rain turned into a steady dripping that made him think of leaky roofs.

The journey in was even less fun the second time around. There was no Judy there to keep his spirits up, and he kept stepping on hard little twigs the wind had shaken down from the trees. In some places, he was up to his ankles in sopping, muddy grass. It made him think of how he’d found Judy: dirty, hurt and unconscious.

The memory did not improve his mood.

He paused when he reached the pond. It was starting to look more like the swamp in the Rainforest District. Water was creeping up the banks, the lily pads bobbing like small boats in a choppy ocean.

No Vixie.

He continued on.

It had been a mistake letting the kit have his card, Nick decided. Her asking for it might have been a scam to begin with. He could easily imagine Robin putting her up to it. The smug fox probably assumed Nick would attend to his little sister’s every beck and call now, leaving himself free to be a thoughtless jerk, abandoning his sister during scary weather to gamble about town, carousing or drinking or whatever it was he did all night. _Philanthrophizing_.

Nick snorted. If Judy got hurt because he had been away fulfilling Robin’s part of big brother like the worst kind of understudy, the two of them would have more than words together.

He reached the house. Nick grimaced as he was forced to leave the relative safety of the woods for the open yard. The rain was coming down in sheets. Thunder boomed; Nick felt the vibrations of it through his chest.

Nick mounted the front steps and knocked his fist hard against the front door. “Vixie, it’s Officer Wilde. Open up.”

He waited. The door didn’t open.

A sharp flash of lightning had Nick tensing. The crack of thunder that followed it sounded like it came directly from the trees behind him.

Nick banged on the door again. “Vixie, are you in there?”

No answer. Or if there was one, he couldn’t hear it over sound of rain battering against his hood.

He pulled out his phone, hunching over it and cupping his paws to protect it from the rain as best he could. No missed calls. He punched in her number. After four rings, a robotic female voice asked him to leave a message. Nick growled into the speaker. “This isn’t funny, kit. You called me over here. Now let me in.”

He shoved his phone back into his pocket and tried the doorknob. Locked. Of course.

He waited a minute longer, but when it became clear that no one was going to answer, he stomped back down the steps and began circling the house. All the lights were out. Power outage or a sign that no one was home? Vixie had called from a cell phone. Despite what she’d told him, she could have been calling from anywhere. Maybe she was with Robin after all. Maybe they were holed up somewhere else, laughing themselves sick over prank calling a cop. Maybe…

He came to the side of the house, and the tree Robin said Vixie liked to climb. The second floor window was cracked open, just an inch.

Nick tugged the hood of his slicker lower over his eyes and debated.

There could be a lot of reasonable explanations for why the window was open. The house was ancient; the wood frame might be warped, or the building itself might have developed a bit of a slant over the decades. Maybe Vixie had been careless and forgotten to latch it. Or maybe she’d done it on purpose. If the power was out, a house like this with its smaller rooms would get stuffy quickly. Maybe she had cracked the window to get some fresh air.

All reasonable explanations. All just as likely as the next. There was no reason to suspect anything more. Certainly no reason for Nick to put himself out by investigating further. He should leave. Get back to his partner who did need him. This wasn’t a 911 call. For all Nick knew, Robin had come home and gotten Vixie while Nick had been driving over here like a crazy fox, and now the Swift siblings were out somewhere enjoying a late dinner at some nice restaurant, oblivious to the soggy officer standing outside their house, or the water damage that open window was causing.

But if he _did_ leave… and Vixie _was_ in there… maybe too scared to come out and open the door… or even close a window…

It might not technically be probable cause, but Nick was confident he could justify it on the paperwork if need be. He hadn’t been a successful hustler for nothing.

He squinted up through the rain at the open window. He could waste time picking the lock on the front door, or he could go for a window. But why risk breaking glass when he had a perfectly good entrance already? It just happened to be several feet off the ground.

Nick sized up the tree. If a kit could do it…

Shaking rainwater off his paws, Nick grabbed the lowest limb he could reach and hauled himself up. The branches were damp and slick. Leaves stuck to his fur. Twice, he slipped badly enough to make his heart leap into his throat.

So it was with relief that he finally reached the windowsill. It wasn’t his most graceful entry into a house he’d ever made. He landed in a dripping pile on the floorboards. Outside, the wind let out a howling shriek. Nick reached up and smacked the window shut.

He picked himself up off the floor. He could tell right away he was in Vixie’s room. There was kit-sized bed and a chest of drawers. Toys—homemade stuffed animals and wooden short swords—littered the room. A low set of shelves held a few books— _The Three Mousketeers_ and the Harry Otter series being the most dogeared—but mostly there was a collection of outdoor bric-a-brac: a wilted waterlily, an oddly shaped stick that looked like it might make a good slingshot, a rock with a fossil that looked like the tail end of a fish.

He checked under the bed and in her closet.

No Vixie.

He crept to door and peeked out.

“Vixie?” he whispered. “Kit, are you here?”

Something bolted out of the darkness, making Nick jump. It streaked across the hall and into another room.

Someone with a bushy red tail.

Nick felt a moment of relief that she was okay, then anger set in. He had a case to solve and a partner to back up. He didn’t have time to be playing games.

Straightening, he crossed the hall to the room he’d seen her dart into. Raising his voice so she’d be sure to hear him, he said, “This isn’t the time to be hiding, Miss Swift. Now come out here so we can ta- _aaghh!_ ”

Someone smashed into him from behind, knocking Nick into the doorframe and sending them both tumbling to the floor. Nick snarled and tried to break away, but though his attacker was similar in height, they were thicker-bodied and very strong. They wrapped their arms around Nick’s middle, their claws digging into his sides as they tried to pin him down. Fortunately for Nick, the wet slicker made it hard for them to find a grip. Nick pulled his arms free from the oversized sleeves and managed to squirm out of both the slicker and his attacker’s iron grasp. He whirled, grabbed a fistful of the plasticky cloth, and whipped it around over the other animal’s head.

And then, because Nick was just in that kind of mood, he followed it up with a punch to the nose.

His attacker screeched and windmilled backwards into the wall. They yanked off the slicker and threw it aside. Masked eyes glittered at Nick from the dark.

“Ray Raqune? What are you doing here?”

“ _My job_ ,” the other animal spat. “And I’m getting really tired of you getting in my way while I’m trying to do it.”

“Well,” said Nick, feeling his throbbing sides for puncture wounds, “unfortunately for you, that’s kind of my job.”

“Well allow me to put in your resignation!”

Ray lunged for him. Nick, prepared this time, ducked and countered with a kick to the raccoon’s stomach. It knocked him back a step, but only one, and the next thing Nick knew, Ray was coming at him again, a furious, snarling ball of muscle and coarse fur. He wasn’t particularly skilled, but his actions were so frenzied Nick found himself on the defense, throwing up his arms to block those sharp claws from tearing up his face as he retreated back, and back, and back, until he crashed againstagainst a bookcase. It rocked back into the wall behind it with a plaster-denting _thud_ , and from somewhere above him came a startled yip.

Ray and Nick both stopped and looked up. There, wedged between the top shelf and wood ceiling, was Vixie. She was hunched low, her ears back, the fur along her spine, tail, and ruff fluffed high in an attempt to intimidate. She bared her teeth at the raccoon, who lit up with a cold kind of delight at the sight of her.

“ _There_ are you,” said Ray. “You’re going to be sorry, making me chase you around this dump. Now wait right there like a good girl while I finish off this nosy cop here, then it’ll be our turn.”

Nick felt a snarl work its way up his throat. “Leave the kit alone.”

“Why? Because you’ll arrest me?” The raccoon snickered. “You and that hippity partner of yours—you’re 0 for 2 so far. I wouldn’t be so cocky.”

Nick glanced back up at Vixie. “No. I’d leave the kit alone because she’s got a bow.”

“A bow? _Ooooh_ , how scary!” mocked Ray. “What’s she going to do? Tie my fur back with it?”

Nick quirked his lips into a smile. “Wrong kind of bow.”

The raccoon looked again, and this time, he saw the weapon Vixie had been silently, stealthily aiming while they had been fighting. The shocked look on his face was priceless. He had only backed up a step when Vixie let her arrow fly. There was the fur-raising sound of it cutting through the air, and then the dull _thwack_ as it struck Ray in the shoulder.

The raccoon toppled backwards with a screech. Nick pounced on him the moment he hit the floor, hauling him up and cuffing him before he could recover from the shock.

“Ha!” crowed Nick. “How do you like them raspberries!”

“I’ve been shot!” cried Ray, gasping and rolling as much as he could while handcuffed and supine on the floor. “I can’t believe the kit shot me!”

“Don’t be such a baby,” said Nick. “It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

“I’m dying I’m dying I’m bleeding out oh no—“

“Would you come down? It’s just a little raspberry juice,” said Nick, “See?”

He made to pull out the arrow, but it resisted and blood gushed around the wound. Ray howled.

Nick felt his stomach swoop. He spun to look up at Vixie, had nocked another arrow and was still aiming at Ray.

“You used _real_ _arrows_?”

She gave him an incredulous look. “He was coming to kill me!”

Fair point.

“Well put that thing away. We’re good. You got him. You can come down now.”

She eyed the moaning raccoon suspiciously, but did as he said, slinging the bow over her shoulder and clambering down the bookcase to come stand beside him.

Nick eyed the weapon more closely. “Robin let’s you play with real arrows?”

Vixie’s gaze turned skittish. “Not exactly.”

“How not exact are we talking about?”

The young fox made a face. “The bow is Robin’s. He keeps it locked up in that cabinet over there.” She pointed to the small wood cabinet across the room. “S’why I came in here. I thought if I could just get to them…”

She abruptly looked back at Nick and scowled. “Then _you_ came and blew my cover! Who shouts during a home invasion?”

“How was I supposed to know—“ Nick caught himself and pointed a finger at her. “Hey. Who’s the officer here?”

Vixie mumbled something and brushed at the frizz in her tail.

“Why did _you_ tell me someone was in the house when you called?” asked Nick.

“Because no one was _then_.” The _duh_ at the end of that sentence was implied.

“So why did you call?”

Her little paws clenched around her tail. “I called because Robin hasn’t come back yet and I…I’m scared.” She shot an angry look at Ray. “I heard him come in while I was waiting for you. He came through _my_ window, can you believe it? I ran but I… I left my phone behind on accident and I couldn’t go back for it, so I couldn’t call anyone…”

“So you decided to have a showdown all by yourself?” said Nick. “You didn’t think to, say, run out the front door? Or hide in the woods?”

She wrinkled her nose. “This is our home. _Someone_ had to defend it. What if he did something? What if he tried to burn it down? Or steal something? Robin would be so upset to lose this place. Our family has lived here for forever, you know. If we lost it—”

She was wringing her tail between her paws now, voice pitching higher as her expression turned distressed.

Nick knelt. He took her small paws between his own and lowered his head so that they were eye-to-eye. “It’s just a house. A very old and precious house, yes, but still, it’s replaceable. _You_ are not replaceable. Robin would be far more upset if he came back and found out that something had happened to you. Now, we both know your brother can be a pain sometimes, but you don’t want to break his heart, do you?”

Vixie looked at him with wide eyes. Slowly, she shook her head.

“So next time you abandoned ship, understand? Leave the criminal catching to the professionals. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Okay,” said Vixie. “Okay, but… what if you need back up? Maybe…. Maybe then I could come help?”

Nick bowed his head, pressing their clasped paws to his forehead. All these tiny animals with more bravery than should fit into their bodies. They were going to be the death of him.

“I already have a partner for that,” he told her, letting go of her paws and getting back to his feet. “For now, I want you to just work on growing up, okay?”

She nodded, a little glumly. Nick ruffled the top of her head and she yipped and jumped away.

“I did good though, right? I mean…” She glanced slyly up at him. “You have to admit—that was a great shot.”

And Judy said _he_ was incorrigible.

He returned his attention back to Ray. The raccoon was no longer groaning but lay still on his back, breathing in sharp little gaps through the pain.

Nick gave him a little nudge with his foot, just enough to rock him and make him moan. “You’re not going into shock, are you?” asked Nick. “Because I’d hate to have you keel over before a judge can get to you.”

Ray’s hissed a few choice words through his teeth that made Vixie gasped and then giggle.

“Vixie, could you grab me a blanket and some duct tape?” asked Nick.

“Should I leave you my bow just in case?” she asked.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll be safe enough without it,” said Nick wryly.

Once she was out of the room, Nick pushed the door over and turned to Ray. “First the Corsacs. Now the Swifts. Is there a reason for this? Or did the animal who hired you just decide to start taking out fox families for the heck of it?”

“Who knows?” said Ray. “But I’ll tell you what—if your name comes up, I’ll do your family in for free.”

Nick gave the arrow sticking out of his shoulder a light flick, making Ray hiss. “Consider me terrified. So, are you the reason Robin never came home?”

Nick was almost afraid to hear the answer. As much the other fox got on his nerves, he didn’t deserve to meet his fate through this raccoon, and Vixie certainly didn’t deserve to lose her brother.

Ray said nothing.

“Are the foxes you took still alive?”

“Who knows.”

“What did you do to them?”

“What I was paid to.”

“Is money all it takes?” demanded Nick. “Even your friend Mo had a line. But you? Going after kits? Really?”

“A fox kit.” The raccoon sneered. “Hardly a tragedy in Zootopia. Most citizens would thank me.”

Nick fisted his paws. But before he could do something that would have gotten him suspended from the ZPD, Vixie returned wearing a roll of duck tape around one wrist and dragging a paisley green comforter.

“Do you have a room in this house with no windows that might hold a raccoon?” Nick asked as she handed over the supplies.

Vixie thought. “Robin’s closet is pretty big.”

Nick caught Ray under his uninjured arm and pulled him to his feet. “Lead the way then.”

The closet probably was big. By kit standards. It took some shoving to make the raccoon fit. Nick taped up his injury to keep the arrow from being jostled too much and tucked the blanket around him, just in case shock was an issue. “Such a caring fox,” mocked Ray.

“I’m all heart,” agreed Nick, and then proceeded to shut the door on the raccoon’s tail. The furious screech he let out at that was particularly satisfying.

Until he turned around and saw that Vixie was watching him.

Right. He was supposed to be acting like a role model.

“Accident,” he said.

She pursed her lips at him in a disbelieving look that would have made Judy proud.

He called Clawhauser to let him know what happened and to have him send out backup along with an ambulance, then he and Vixie made their way downstairs to wait.

“The cabinet in the study…” Nick queried, “you said it was locked.”

“It was.”

“Then how did you get into it?”

Vixie lifted her muzzle proudly in the air. “I’ve been able to pick locks since I was six.”

“Philanthropy skills you picked up from your brother?”

“Filly-what skills?”

“Never mind.”

He made her sit on the couch, grabbing an old afghan from off a nearby chair and tucking it around her until only her furry head poked out.

“But I’m not cold,” she told him.

“Humor me,” said Nick.

He went to the kitchen and got her a glass of sweet tea. Though she also claimed not to be thirsty, she drained half the cup immediately.

Nick pulled over a chair and sat, watching her.

She watched him right back.

Outside, the rain continued to hammer.

“So,: said Nick. “While we wait for the calvary to arrive. Let’s talk about why you called me earlier.”

“Because Robin hasn’t come back yet,” she said, as if he should have gotten this by now.

“And you have no idea where he went?”

Vixie shook her head. “We saw the news about Marian and Todd and Reynard being taken, and Robin got really upset. He started making calls…”

“Do you know to whom?”

“Uhhhmm… there was Uncle John. Then Uncle Will. Then Aunt Scarlet…”

“Did you overhear anything?”

“No. He made me leave the room.”

“And you didn’t try to listen?”

“I didn’t!”

Nick eyed her.

Vixie slumped. “Okay, maybe I tried. I didn’t hear anything helpful! Next thing I know, Robin’s telling me he has to go somewhere and that he’d be back soon.” She look down at her tea. “But he wasn’t.”

“And you have no clue at all where he might’ve gone?”

Vixie huffed. “He didn’t want me following him. But he said it might be dangerous, so just in case he wrote down the address and put it in the safe. He told me that if he didn’t come back in twenty-four hours, I was supposed to call you. He said knowing you, you would be able to crack it.”

“Crack what? The safe?”

She nodded.

Nick did some inventive cursing— _silently_ of course, because he was a role model now.

“What, you can pick a lock but you can’t crack a safe?” teased Nick.

“Robin made Aunt Scarlet promise not to teach me until I’m older.”

Nick smiled at the pout he heard in her voice. “It’s tough being a kit, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

Nick sat there and debated.

He could wait and let back-up come, have them do it all officially and on the record, with heaps of paperwork and approvals that could take hours to get, and hope that in the meantime, whatever had happened to the Corsacs wasn’t happening to Vixie’s brother, too.

Or he could do it his way.

He looked at the young kit’s anxious face, her droopy ears and the way her paws shook as she clutched the glass.

Well, Nick always did prefer doing things his way.

He stood. Vixie bounded up immediately, but Nick held out a paw to stop her. “I don’t think so. You’re going to finish your tea and wait for backup to get here.”

“But if you’re opening the safe… can’t I just watch?”

“I’m not going to be responsible for teaching you bad habits.”

“But I want to help.”

“Help me by keeping look out. If anyone arrives before I get back, give a shout.”

“Okay.”

“And for the record, I only know how to crack safes because a friend of a friend taught me. I’ve never played the thief once in my life.”

Vixie blinked. “Of course not. Stealing is wrong.” She said it without a hint of guile.

Nick hesitated for a second longer, but no judgement seemed to be forthcoming. He gestured to the stairs. “Is it in your brother’s room?”

“Basement.”

Right. On his way, he stopped by the kitchen and bathroom to pick up a few innocuous household items to help him out. He couldn’t help but noticing Robin carried the very best brand of everything, some in multiple sets.

_Philanthropist, my furry behind. And I’m an entrepreneur._

Ten minutes later, he returned to the living room with the address in hand. It really was just an address—no note or anything—written in annoyingly florid cursive. It named some bar in a sketchy corner of the Rainforest District, one that Nick had heard of but never been to. And it was in a flood zone.

Great.

He met Vixie on the stairs.

“I see lights in the trees,” she told him. “I think the medics are here.” Her gaze alighted to the paper he held. She clapped her paws together. “You got it! I knew you were the best!”

Her open admiration made Nick feel twitchy. He pocketed the note. “If anyone asks, we found it on the fridge, got it?”

“Got it.”

Nick went outside to greet the medics. Officer Howle and Selene accompanied them. They had to hunch to fit through the front door and the stairs groaned alarmingly when they followed Nick up to the second floor. He directed them to Robin’s closet, where the medics freed Ray from his makeshift cell and loaded him onto the stretcher. Then Nick returned downstairs to find Howle and Selene, who were trying to introduce themselves to Vixie, with moderate success.

Despite her denial about needing a blanket, the kit had burrowed back under it while Nick had been upstairs. Her bow was on the couch beside her. One paw held tightly onto it, like a strange kind of security blanket. She was watching the officers warily. Both sides looked relieved when Nick entered the room.

“Vixie, this is Officer Howle and Officer Selene,” introduced Nick. “They’re going to stay here until someone can come and fetch you. Any of those many aunts and uncles of yours live in this district, by any chance?”

Vixie looked between him and the other officers. “They do, but… can’t I just wait for Robin here? You’re going to go get him now, aren’t you?”

“I am. But the thing is…” Nick made a show of looking out the front window. “This storm is really bad right now. We might have to hole up for a while until it’s over, and you don’t want to be by yourself all night.”

She perked up. “Then I’ll come with you! We can wait together.”

“Robin wouldn’t thank me for bringing you into a possibly dangerous situation. Remember how we talked about not worrying him?”

Vixie’s looked chastened for all of five seconds before a darker, stormier look entered her eyes. And while Nick might not have had kids or younger siblings, even he recognized brewing rebellion when he saw it.

He crouched and put a paw on her shoulder. “Hey. You called because you trusted me to get your brother back, right?”

“I called because I can’t crack a safe,” Vixie grumped. “ _Yet_.”

Someone behind him let out a sudden and suspicious cough. Nick shot a glare over his shoulder. “ _Still_. You saved my tail back there, Quick Draw. If not for you being so brave and taking the initiative like that, things might have gotten a lot hairier.”

“Really?”

Nick nodded. He tucked the blanket more securely around her narrow shoulders. “Really. So let me return the favor now. Let me bring your brother back to you.”

“You promise you will?”

He drew an X over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

Someone behind him hissed in warning. Nick ignored them.

Vixie looked at him solemnly and Nick found himself holding his breath as he waited for her to answer. He wasn’t one to squirm under anyone’s scrutiny, but it was a strange sensation being sized up so seriously by such a young pair of eyes. It did weird things to his heart. He didn’t much care for it.

“Okay,” she said finally. “Okay, I’ll allow you to go.”

Well. There really was no other response one could give to such queenly permission other than to stand and bow, which Nick did, and then he gave her head another ruffle because he liked doing it and because she really was too cheeky for a kit so young.

“I’ll keep in touch, Quick Draw.”

“You had better!”

Selene and Howle followed him to the door.

“A word, Wilde,” said Selene. She was scowling, her tail flicking back and forth in a way that said she wanted badly to swat at him. Howle just looked worried.

Nick flashed them his most confident grin. “Guys, relax. I’ve got this.”

“Save your bluffing for the kit,” hissed Selene. “There’s a reason we don’t make promises like the one you just made. You should know better.”

“You want to be the one to tell that little kit over there that we might not be able to save her precious big brother?” asked Nick. “The only family member she has left in the world? Who was like a father to her? Then you go ahead, be my guest. You’re a stronger mammal than I am.”

“Do you even know where her brother is? Or what he’s doing? Or who he might be with?”

“I have an address and a theory. That’s all that I need right now.”

Selene made a sound of disgust.

The paramedics tromped down the stairs, Ray strapped and drugged on the stretcher. Already his eyes were glazed over from the painkillers. Nick used the distraction to sneak away and call Judy.

She answered on the first ring. “Nick?”

“Who else?”

She huffed into the speaker. “I was starting to get worried. What’s going on over there?”

Nick gave her the summarized version, glossing over his fight with Ray. The details of that were better left for another time.

Once he had finished, Judy asked, “Do you think Robin’s disappearance is related?”

“It’s a good bet. Swift only went out after hearing about the Corsacs.”

Across the room, Selene and Howle had returned to Vixie’s side and were helping her call her aunt or uncle of choice. Whatever Selene’s issues with him, she was nothing but gentle with the kit, her voice soft as a purr. Vixie was already sitting up straighter, her grip less tight around her bow. Faith starting to replace the fear.

Nick turned away. “Listen, Carrots. I know I said I would deal with this and come right back, but—”

“You need to find Robin.” It was both statement and consent.

Nick still felt the need to justify. “Wherever he is, the Corsacs may be also.”

“And Vixie needs her brother back.”

Nick blew out a breath. Even over the phone, he couldn’t hustle his partner. “And Vixie needs her brother back,” he agreed.

They both lapsed into silence. Nick wished Judy was there with him. He wished he could just see her face. He had so many worries, he didn’t know where to start: Was he making the right choice, pursuing this instead of returning to her side? What if he couldn’t save Robin or the Corsacs? What if it was already too late? What would he do then? What would he tell Vixie? And what if something happened to Judy while he was gone? How would he even begin to try and live with himself?

But instead of saying any of that, what came out of his mouth was, “How are things going over there? Any luck?”

A thoughtful hum. “Not yet. Ben is giving me a tour.”

Nick ground his teeth at her use of the rabbit’s first name. “Sounds like fun.”

“It’s been fascinating.” By the falsely chirpy pitch of her voice, Nick knew Cottonbutt was within earshot.

“Well, try not to get distracted by all the frozen vegetables, all right? You’re not just there for the free celery sticks.”

Judy snorted. “I’ll try.”

Nick picked at a crack in his phone’s plastic casing. The conversation was over, but he was loathe to end the call. He tried to think of something else to say, something besides his own useless worries. He was painfully aware that time was ticking, and that the storm and their odds weren’t going to get any better by waiting longer. He also knew that things were likely to get more dangerous from here. He should say comforting. Encouraging. Something that wouldn’t leave him with regrets in case—

“Well I better get getting then!” _Dumb, cowardly fox_. “Places to go, foxes to find. You understand.”

“Right,” said Judy. She sounded… Nick couldn’t really say how she sounded. He wished again that he could see her face.

“Nick?”

“Yeah?”

There was a pause. Long enough that he thought he had misheard her and she hadn’t said his name after all.

He expected to hear the dial tone, so he was surprised when it was Judy’s voice that came, lowered and with an odd echo to it, like her paw was cupped around the speaker. “Vixie’s not the only one who needs her fox back. You hear me?”

_This bunny._

“Little possessive, don’t you think, Fluff?”

Judy’s response was prim. “I walk around smelling like you now. I think I’ve earned it.”

* * *

"Is everything okay?"

Judy looked up from her darkened cell phone screen. Cottontail stood a few feet away, more for courtesy than actual privacy. He would’ve had to have been much farther away for the call to have truly been private. Still, she appreciated the gesture.

She pocketed her phone. "No, actually. My partner and a kit he was visiting were just attacked."

"Oh my goodness. Are they all right?"

"Fortunately, they're both fine. But it was a close call."

"Do you need to go see them?"

Was that hopefulness she heard in Cottontail's voice? Judy couldn't be sure.

"No. Nick has it all under control.” As she said it, she made herself believe it. Nick _would_ be okay. "Let's continue."

They had stopped in the lobby. Cottontail led her passed the front desk and through a side door that put them in a long, winding corridor with a cement floor and washed out green walls that reminded Judy of over-boiled cabbage. But even the hideous paint job couldn't disguise the true reason for the tunnel. The smell of dirt surrounded them, the odor made even stronger by all the rain. A few scratches here, a few more there, and a bunny could break through these walls and be burrowing into the soil faster than the ZPD could say c _arrots_.

"Maintenance tunnel," explained Cottontail. "And an escape route in case of emergency. It connects the office building to the factory. There's a footbridge we could take, too. But while the scenery might be more picturesque, this weather would make it less than ideal."

Judy breathed in the smell of damp earth and tried not to imagine the whole thing collapsing in on top of her in a wave of mud and water. She had played in burrows all her life. She wouldn't let one bad experience ruin her.

"Are you all right, Officer Hopps?"

_Deep breath in, deep breath out. You can do this._

"I'm fine," said Judy.

Cottontail eyed the tunnel as if finding it suddenly suspect. "You know, we could also take a car around. The bridges are probably closed, but we could cut through Downtown and get to Sahara Square that way."

"There's no _time_ ," said Judy.

Cottontail shot her a look.

"That is," she amended, "the tunnel is fine."

"If you say so. After you then."

It was quite a trek. Or maybe it was just Judy's anxiety that made it feel that way. Cottontail walked in silence beside her, his paws clasped behind his back, expression pensive. Judy had seen him earnest and she had seen him charming. This broodiness was new.

But despite his mood, his posture was as perfect as ever, and Judy found herself straightening her back in an attempt to gain some semblance of the same grace. Bearing aside, their pace and steps were a perfect match, and Judy tried to focus on that instead of the sharp smell of soil or the way the tunnel seemed to narrow the longer it stretched on. It had been a while since she had walked any distance with another bunny. She had forgotten how nice it felt to be so in sync with another of her kind. Even for a bunny like her, who strove to be different and break molds, she couldn't deny that there was something innately reassuring about being able to connect like this, without effort. It was the safety of sameness. The security of knowing she fit in, without doubt, regardless of what other differences they might have, which for Judy were many.

She couldn't help but compare it to walking with Nick. Her smaller, springing steps with his longer stride and slower gate. And yet somehow they always managed to stay apace of each other. She couldn't say she found security in it, but maybe something better. Something more like harmony.

Judy shook her head. She was romanticizing their walking now? Nick was right. She was far too sentimental. Time to move this investigation along.

"I visited your company's website this morning," she told Cottontail.

"Did you?"

Judy nodded. "I saw that you have your new meals listed. They all look delicious."

"Thank you." Cottontail's tone was neutral. In fact, he sounded so much like Nick at his most distant that Judy's instinct was to back off. But this wasn't Nick. And distant meant that the bunny was being careful. A promising sign.

Judy persisted. "The Corsac's served similar meals at their restaurant. Back when they were still open."

Cottontail's mouth tipped downwards. "When you create meals for herbivores there's going to be some overlap. There's only so many ways to prepare a salad or stew."

"Of course."

He cut her a look. "The first night we spoke, I was honest when I said this meal line could hurt their business."

"You were."

"And that it was most likely the reason they were so upset."

"You did say that."

"But I didn't steal their ideas."

The blunt statement had Judy cutting off the next blithe agreement she had been about to make. He wanted to be direct about this? Good. Directness she could handle. In fact, she preferred it.

"Have you ever been to their restaurant?" she asked him. "Just to check things out? Get a look at the competition?"

"They are _not_ competition for _me_."

Judy raised an eyebrow. Cottontail cleared his throat and looked away. When he spoke again, his tone had returned to its former placid state. "I have never had the pleasure of visiting them, no."

"But you _had_ heard of them. Before the break-ins started."

"Heard of them, yes. I'm in the same business, even if it is on a different scale."

"And by _them_ you mean…"

Cottontail huffed. The first sign of impatience she'd seen from him. "Who else have we been talking about? The Corsacs, of course."

"So you never heard about Carol Hopson then?"

Cottontail fiddled with one of the cufflinks on his suit. "I can't say that I have. A lapse on my part, I'm sure. I hear about so many mammals day to day. You're about to enlighten me, of course."

"She ran the restaurant the Corsacs worked at. She was also the cook. And by all accounts, beloved by everyone in the burrow."

Cottontail's nose twitched. "Now that you say it, the name does ring a bell."

"Do you also recall that she was the actual owner of the restaurant, not the Corsacs?"

"That…" Cottontail shook his head. "I can't say that I do."

"How odd."

They turned a corner. The end of the tunnel finally came in view. Judy started breathing easier.

"Do you remember who told you that the Corsacs owned the restaurant?"

"Another name that has slipped my mind, sadly."

"That's too bad. I'm curious where they got their information. Now that Carol has passed—"

The cufflink hit the floor with a high-pitched _ting_ that echoed down the tunnel.

Both bunnies stopped.

"My apologies," said Cottontail, bending to retrieve the shiny clip. "You were saying?"

"I was just going to say that now that Carol has passed, there's a possibility of the Corsacs inheriting the restaurant, but that has yet to be made official."

Instead of putting the cufflink back on, Cottontail stuffed it into his pocket. "Well there's your answer then. Assumption and rumor. They probably just assumed the Corsacs would get it and went with that."

"Or they had really good intel." Intel like a stolen will.

"Well if I recall their name you will be the first to know."

They had finally reached the door. Cottontail held it open for her. Judy's gaze snagged on his undone cuff, and perhaps it was because he was usually so put together, but that one missing cufflink somehow made him look more disheveled than Nick as his most scruffy.

They entered the warehouse. The storm was deafening here. It pounded on the high domed ceiling, echoing like a thousand tiny drums. The air smelled like gasoline and metal, vegetables and rain, and a tease of spices Judy couldn't quite identify. Shiny white delivery trucks stretched the length of the warehouse in perfect rows, each one with its own garage door, all of which were currently closed to keep out the storm.

The temperature was just above frigid here. Judy, still damp from her jaunt across the parking lot, shivered and rubbed her arms.

"I'm sorry about the cold," said Cottontail. "Our refrigerated storehouse is just across the way there." He pointed to a set of heavy metal doors off to their right. "It's the best money can buy, but it makes the surrounding buildings chilly. Nice when it's hot out, but less so any other time. I've been trying to get some arctic hares on board, but so far I haven't been able to tempt them into leaving Tundratown."

"Maybe if they didn't have to work in such bad weather?" suggested Judy.

"Have you ever met an arctic hare?" said Cottontail. "Those bunnies love bad weather. But that said, I would never make them work in it. What gave you that idea?"

Judy pointed to an extra large gap between two vehicles. "Because one of your trucks is missing."

"Oh, that." Cottontail waved a dismissive paw. "I loaned it out to someone."

Judy eyed the space. "Are you normally in the habit of loaning out company vehicles? I would think it would be a huge insurance issue. Not to mention the risk of whoever you gave the truck to damaging it and leaving you short a vehicle when you needed it."

"If you must know, I loaned it to a friend. Whom I trust. And who I owe more to than some piddling insurance fee," said Cottontail. "And I am nothing if not prepared. I wouldn't have given them the truck if I hadn't been absolutely sure I didn't need it."

He plucked at his remaining cufflink and seemed to think over his next words. "Can I be honest with you, Officer Hopps?"

"Of course," said Judy.

Cottontail stuffed his paws into his pockets, away from temptation, and aimed a look at her that was part hurt, part reproachful. "I find myself very disappointed in you."

Judy's ears shot up. She must have misheard him over all the rain. "I'm sorry?"

"I understand that you want to support your partner. And with him being a fox, of course you're going to feel protective of the species as a whole. But that's no excuse to be doing this."

"Doing what?"

Cottontail cast his gaze skyward. "Coming out here like this, unannounced, and during such atrocious weather. Trying to dig up something you know isn't here just so you can keep defending the true guilty party."

"That's not what I'm doing," denied Judy.

"No? Because from where I'm standing it looks like you'd rather blame an innocent bunny than admit to a few rotten foxes. Species loyalty aside, it's bad police work. I expected better from the great Judy Hopps. The actions of the Corsacs might be surprising, but in the end we must accept that they happened."

"Why?"

"Because," said Cottontail. "Facts are facts."

"No," said Judy. "I mean why are their actions so surprising to you? You said yourself that you didn't know the Corsacs personally. You hadn't even met them before all this started happening. So what would you know about what they’re capable of or not? Most animals would take the fact that the Corsacs did these things as a given, because they're foxes. But you thought the opposite, and even tried to protect them. Why?"

Cottontail let out an incredulous laugh. "So you suspect me because I'm _not_ a discriminating jackrabbit?" He shook his head. "Should I have been ruthless instead? Should I have told you to drop the book on them? Punish them to the full extent of the law? Would you have believed me then?"

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Did you not?"

"No," said Judy. "I didn't. I—"

A bunny appeared around the corner and Judy stopped. This one, too, wore a business suit, though it wasn't quite as fine as Cottontail's. The bunny handed him a clipboard with a stack of documents on it. Judy waited while Cottontail read over them, ignoring the appraising glances the employee gave her.

Once Cottontail had signed off on the last page, he handed to clipboard back and the bunny nodded and scampered off, all without a word.

"You really do have a lot of bunnies on staff," noted Judy. "That's the fifth one I've seen since arriving here."

Cottontail gestured for her to follow him. He led her around the rows of trucks to a small break room in the back. It was warmer in here. The sound of rain a distant rumble. There was a round table big enough to seat a dozen, sized for medium to small animals, a neglected cork bulletin board, a fridge, a microwave, and an old tube television.

Judy took a seat at the table. Cottontail sat down next to her.

"I mentioned before, I think, that Cottontail Inc. considers itself a small family company?" he said. "It would be more accurate, perhaps, to say it's a small _town_ company. The burrow I come from… it's all thanks to them that I've made it to where I am today. So I use their produce exclusively. And if any bunnies from that burrow come looking for work here, I find them a place. Hence, the disproportionate number of bunny staff."

"That's very generous of you," said Judy.

Cottontail brushed some crumbs from off the table. "It's the least I can do to pay them back. Loyalty, Officer Hopps. It's important to me. Perhaps the most important thing."

"An admirable quality to have," agreed Judy.

"And yet instead of being impressed by it, you are suspicious." He glanced up at her. "Perhaps the worst of Zootopia is getting to you."

Judy resisted the urge to start cleaning off her own table space. She wished Nick was here. He played this part of the game so much better than she did.

"I apologize if I've offended you, Mr. Cottontail. It comes with the territory. Working at the ZPD, you run into a lot of animals who hide bad intentions behind sweet smiles and kind words." She held up her paw in a gesture of peace. "Maybe we can reset a bit? Have a subject change?"

When he said nothing to that, she took it as acceptance and continued. "I also come from a burrow. Did you know? Bunnyburrow. It's a couple hours outside of Zootopia."

He acknowledged that with a wary nod. "I've heard good things."

"Really? I'm happy to hear that. Most animals don't even know where I'm talking about when I mention it."

"You must not talk to a lot of bunnies then."

"No. Not these days," said Judy, feeling a pang. Shaking it off, she asked him, "Which burrow do you come from? Maybe we grew up neighbors and don't even know it."

Cottontail smiled, but it was a sad smile. "You're trying to sweet-talk me into answers now. It won't work. If you want to dig into my history, you're going to have to find another source. I won't drag my burrow into this mess and make them victims too."

"Is that how you feel? That you've become a victim?"

Cottontail straightened in his chair. "Well, wouldn't you? I reported a crime and now somehow _I'm_ the one being interrogated."

"So you consider yourself a victim of this investigation?"

"Yes."

"And a victim of these attacks?"

"Without a doubt."

"Probably you felt like a victim in your own house with Marian constantly about, stealing your mother's affection."

"Well how could I not—" Cottontail's mouth snapped shut. His eyes flew wide. "You—"

Judy smiled. "Do you remember any of those names now? Because I'm recalling another one you might know. Does _Peter Hopson_ ring any of those bells for you?"

"How did you—

Judy shrugged. "I grew up in a family of hundreds. I recognize sibling rivalry when I see it."

Cottontail's cheeks bunched in a snarl, revealing perfectly straight buck teeth. "Those foxes are _not_ my siblings."

"Is that why you decided to get rid of them? Because you don't consider them family?" asked Judy. "But then why wait all this time? That's what I don't understand. Was it because of your mother dying? Was that the last straw for you? But then why protect them as much as you have? Why not ask me to 'throw the book at them,' like you said—"

Cottontail surged from his seat. Judy braced, ready to defend herself, but he only turned his back on her. His whole body shook. "I want you to leave."

Judy rose as well. "I'm not going anywhere. I've got all I need to arrest you on suspicion of fraud and kidnapping, and that's just for starters. I could take you in now if I wanted to, and probably should, but frankly I just don't have the time. The Corsacs could be dying even as we speak." Judy stepped up behind him. "Where is the generous and understanding bunny I've been talking to all this time? Benjamin Cottontail. The one who lectured me on being too cynical? Or was everything about him a lie? Are you really just the angry, petty, Peter Hopson—"

"Don't call me that!" He spun around to face her. "Peter Hopson is dead. And if Marian and the others are dead too, then as far as I'm concerned they brought it on themselves." He flung out his arms, holding his wrists up to her, one sleeve still perfectly folded and cuffed, the other loose and flopping over the pale fur of his inner arm.

"So arrest me," he said. "Or get out. Either way, I'm done answering your questions."


	11. Chapter 11

Judy didn't move.

"Don't be like this. You've made your point. The Corsacs know who they're messing with now. There's no need to go this far."

"I haven't gone nearly as far as I could," said Cottontail darkly.

"No?" said Judy. "Terrorizing the Corsacs, stealing their things, ruining their business, putting Craven into a coma, kidnapping them, that's not far enough?"

" _No_." Cottontail leaned in close. "For stealing my mother away, taking over my home—no, it doesn't feel like nearly enough."

"And Robin Swift?"

Cottontail frowned. "Who?"

"Marian's boyfriend. Another fox who has also gone _mysteriously_ missing. What did he do to deserve being on your list?"

"I don't know who you're talking about."

Judy gaped at him. Was he really trying to play dumb again? After all this?

"And Vixie? Did you _forget_ her too? She's just a kit, and you sent your goon of a raccoon after her. You profess to be so magnanimous. But where's your sense of mercy?"

"What are you talking about?" said Cottontail. "I would never hurt a child of any species! You... Are you trying to blame me for every fox-related crime now? You really do have issues."

" _I_ have issues?"

"Clearly." Cottontail drew himself up. Even his ears seemed unnaturally tall. "It seems I have misjudged you, Officer Hopps. All this time I thought you were for animal equality, but you have a secret agenda just like everyone else. Who knew that when you were speaking of sweet smiles and kind words you really meant yourself."

"You—" spluttered Judy. "You're trying to twist things."

" _You're_ the one who is doing that," said Cottontail. "Trying to blame me for crimes I didn't commit. I'll see you in court for it, Officer Hopps."

He yanked open the break room door in a clear gesture of dismissal. The sound of the storm roared in, along with three bunnies, a sheep, and a gopher who had all been trying to eavesdrop.

They jumped back at suddenly finding themselves revealed and made a break for it. Judy waited until the tip of the gopher's tail had disappeared behind one of the trucks before speaking again.

"The only one who's going to court is you," she told Cottontail. "Now close the door."

His eyes narrowed, and Judy knew he was debating the repercussions of refusing her.

"Look," she said. "Cooperate with me now, and I promise that when I take you in, it will be done with all the discretion at my disposal. Only your nosiest employees will even know you've been arrested. But refuse, and I'll make a call right now that'll have every major reporter in Zootopia waiting outside to watch me take you in. And this time your name _will_ be in the papers. The choice is yours."

"This isn't proper protocol," said Cottontail. "I could report you for this."

"I know. And you are free to do so. Later. But right now I don't have time to do this _properly_. Lives are at stake. So make your decision."

On the other side of the warehouse, something metal hit the cement floor with a clatter. She heard whispering behind one of the trucks.

Cottontail looked out at the warehouse, then back at her.

Judy waited.

Cottontail shut the door.

Judy took a seat back at the table and waved for him to do the same. After a moment, he did, his expression mutinous.

"Now, let's try this again."

She pulled out a slip a paper from her pocket and unfolded it. It was a copy of Peter Hopson's photo that she had taken from his file. It was black and white, heavily creased and damp, but the picture was clear.

She laid it on the table between them. Cottontail wrinkled his nose.

"Peter Hopson. This is you, correct?"

"This isn't legal," said Cottontail. "I don't have to answer any of this." But when she only continued to look at him, he sighed and said, "Yes, that's me."

"And is it true you got into trouble a lot at school as a teenager?"

"Yes."

"And resented the Corsacs for their place in your mother's life?"

"Yes."

"And because of that you ran away from home?"

"No."

Judy stopped and looked at him. "No?"

Cottontail shifted in his chair. He tugged at his tie, gaze falling to a point just to the right of Judy's collarbone. "My mother was the one who told me to go."

"Your _mother_ kicked you out?"

Cottontail was back to fiddling with his remaining cufflink. "She said she couldn't take it any longer. That she'd tried, for years, but that she’d had enough. She said I needed to go find myself. Or, barring that, find a place that made me happy. She said if being with only bunnies was so important to me, than that's where I should go. And I was so… so angry, I guess, that I just…" Cottontail picked at the cufflink. _Plink, plink_. "I agreed. I packed up my stuff that night, borrowed some money from a friend for the ticket, and took the last bunny tram out of Zootopia."

"Is that when you moved to the burrow?" asked Judy.

Cottontail nodded. "I found the most isolated spot I could and they accepted me with open paws. They sympathized with my plight. Took _my_ side when I told them what had been happening at home. For the first time in my life, I felt understood. Vindicated."

"You don't sound like it made you any happier," pointed out Judy.

"Oh, it did. For a time," said Cottontail. "You see, I had always considered myself a traditional bunny at heart. And they hated the Corsacs as much as I did, though for very different reasons. It was only when I started to realize those differences that, well, my satisfaction waned." _Plink, plink_ went his claw against the cufflink.

"You see, I hated the Corsacs with a passion—Marian most of all—but not for being foxes. I had no grudge against foxes in general or any of the other predators that passed through our burrow. In fact, I enjoyed talking with the occasional visitor as much as the rest of the burrow seemed to hate it. I found myself missing Zootopia. Its vibrancy. Its variety. I sat in on monthly burrow meetings and found myself embarrassed by the subjects they discussed."

"Like what?"

"Like how to keep predators out, especially foxes. Or how important it was to stick to tradition, regardless if it made sense or not to do things that way. It got under my fur. I realized what my mother had been trying to say all those years, and knew this wasn't the type of bunny I wanted to be. If I was ever going to be able to face her again, I needed to be better than this burrow I had fled to."

"Is that why you changed your identity?" asked Judy.

"I was starting a new life. Casting off the shameful name of Peter Hopson and becoming Benjamin Cottontail."

"And your appearance?"

_Plink, plink._

"I needed to look the part. I bleached my fur, got straightener implants for my ears, and started exercising religiously. I needed to fully embrace the identity of Benjamin Cottontail, the epitome of everything a bunny should be and more."

"And what should a bunny be?”

"Understanding. Generous. Smart. Proud of his roots but willing to innovate."

"And the burrow didn't have a problem with you doing all this changing?"

He smiled in a way that made Judy remember how charming Cottontail could be when he wanted to. "I find that no animal, bunny or otherwise, likes to admit that they might _not_ be any of these things, even if it is true. A carefully worded conversation and you can get almost anyone to agree with whatever you want them to. And I was clever about it. I made sure the changes I made stuck to the burrow's core values."

"Like farm production?"

"Exactly. _Let's just expand a little_. Then— _a green factory would be better for the environment_ and _make the burrow more money._ And a while after that— _you know, selling directly to the city would bring in more customers_. Five years later, the company was on the map. I moved back to Zootopia a successful bunny and with a burrow that was producing three times as many vegetables as any other."

"And your mother?"

Cottontail's proud smile faltered. "She knew I was back. I'm sure she knew. But I put off going to see her. I kept telling myself: just one more big merger and I would be ready. Just one more successful product and I could go home with my head held high. I continued on like that for over a year."

The cufflink wobbled, the stitching around the hole starting to fray. Still he picked. _Plink. Plink._

"And then one morning—a Wednesday, I remember. 5:37am. Marian called me. It was the first time I had spoken to her in almost a decade. And the first words she said to me were, 'we just lost your mother. I'm sorry.'"

_Plink, plink. Plink, plink._

"And do you know what my very first thought was, when I realized what she was telling me?" said Cottontail. "It was that I had missed my chance to prove to my mother that I had become greater than the Corsacs."

_Plink, plink_ — _ting_. His second cufflink fell onto the tabletop. Both bunnies stared at it.

"All those years of hard work," murmured Cottontail. "Of self-reflection. Of telling myself I was better than my narrow-minded neighbors. And really, I hadn't changed at all. Deep down I had still been competing with Marian, still subconsciously plotting how I would win back my mother's affection." He smacked his paw over the cufflink. Judy jumped. "It was all the same. Even now, finally being aware of it, I still hate them. I'm not getting any better. No matter how hard I try, I just can't forgive them."

"Is that why you stole the recipes?" asked Judy.

"I didn't steal them," said Cottontail. "My mother taught Marian a handful of those recipes, but the rest were mine. She left them to me in her will. And Marian handed them over to me with her blessing. I think she felt guilty, as she should."

"And the will going missing?" said Judy. "You're telling me that was just a coincidence?"

Cottontail made a face. "You sound like Reynard. Just going to the restaurant to pick up the recipe books left me feeling sick for days. I want nothing more to do with that place. Marian can have it for all I care. I didn't steal the will, or the pictures, or Todd's first coat shedding, or any of the things the Corsacs came to my office and accused me of taking."

"And the raccoon that was hired to kidnap them?"

"The only one I hired was _you_ ," said Cottontail. "And look how well that's turn out for me."

"So you're telling me you've done _nothing_ to the Corsacs?"

Cottontail turned over his paw, staring at the imprint the cufflink had left there. "I can't say with any certainty that I'd feel remorse if they turned up dead somewhere a week from now. But actively trying to ruin them? Or hurt them? No. Even when they started breaking in and throwing accusations at me, all I ever tried to do was make them leave me alone. Nothing more, nothing less. I consider it the least I could do for my mother, who loved those foxes so much more than me."

Judy sat back in her chair and debated. It was possible he was lying to her. He had done it before, and there were certainly enough reasons for it. But the bitterness in his voice made her think he wasn't.

She had encouraged Nick to go back to using his instincts. It was time she started taking her own advice.

Cottontail was slumped in his seat, staring at the printout of his old photograph. Judy noted that while the ears, the form, and the fur color might all have changed, that pouting expression was exactly the same.

"I just have one last question to ask," she told him.

Cottontail waved a resigned paw.

"Who did you loan the truck to?"

Cottontail looked over at her in disbelief. "This again?"

"Yes. This again."

"I told you, a friend has it. What does it have to do with anything?"

"Because I'm almost positive that that truck of yours was used as the getaway vehicle in the Corsac's kidnapping," said Judy. "And the driver of that truck—a raccoon—admitted to being paid a large sum of money in order to play kidnapper. A raccoon who also knew his way around a certain illegal burrow that we know was dug out by a bunny."

Judy leaned in closer and lowered her voice, just in case those nosy employees that had been snooping around outside had decided to return. "You understand what that means, don't you? Either your friend has gotten involved in some very bad activities, or they know the mammal who has. Or it's you, and you're still lying to me."

Cottontail shook his head emphatically. "I'm not lying. I really did loan the truck out. And I haven't dug a burrow since my ears were still floppy. But it doesn't make sense. He would never hurt Marian or her brothers."

"Who is _he_?"

Cottontail's mouth flattened, his brow falling low over his eyes. He stared down at the cufflink.

"I understand that loyalty is important to you," said Judy. "It's important to me, too. But you're going to have to make a decision here. Are you going to be loyal to the friend who used you to commit these terrible crimes? Or to the Corsacs who only ever wanted to be part of your family?"

Cottontail looked sharply at her. "I never asked for a bigger family. All I ever wanted was for my mother to choose _me_ over those awful foxes. But now she's gone, and so is my chance to prove anything to her. Tell me, what's the point in being loyal to a ghost?"

Judy held up the battered photocopy of his younger self. "Because that ghost loved this bunny," she told him. "She might not have been able to toss out the children of her dearest late friends in order to make you happy—but she _did_ care. She let you, her only son, _leave_ because she knew she couldn't give you what you needed. She was trying to do right by you, and the Corsacs."

"And yet the foxes came first."

"Did they?" asked Judy. "Your mother left her recipe books to _you_. Recipes you don't even _need_. Because they were her's, and she wanted you, her son, to have them. As a safety, or maybe just a good memory. She might have left the Corsac's the restaurant, but that's no guarantee they'll be successful at it. They are going to have to start their business practically from the ground up. New managing, new menu. How can you look at those choices and still think your mother didn't put you first?"

She would have gone on, but from outside came a sudden howling that interrupted both her words and thoughts.

But it wasn't wolves; it was rain.

It rumbled across the roof, audible now even in the break room. Judy fisted her paws under the table and tried not to think about Nick being out alone in this weather.

Cottontail was watching her. "You really believe my friend sent someone after a kit?"

"Yes," said Judy. “And Nick could be next unless you help me _.”_

“You care about him a lot, don’t you?”

“I do,” said Judy. “I also care about Marian, and Reynard, and Todd. If you’re not ready to forgive them yet, that’s okay. But don’t make the same mistake with them that you made with your mother.”

Cottontail looked down at the table and sighed. He picked up the cufflink and slipped it into his pocket.

He looked at Judy. “I don’t know where he was going with the truck.”

“That’s fine,” said Judy. “I just need a name.”

Cottontail told her.

* * *

Nick hated the Rainforest District the most out of all the districts. Always had. Everything was perpetually wet, even the air. The walkways were slick, the ground was muddy, and there was a gloom about the place that not even the Rainbow Falls could fully dispel.

And that was during _good_ weather.

The ground level roads had been closed for flooding. Only the canopy level remained traversable. Nick was forced to leave behind his cruiser and hike up—Hiking! In a monsoon!—because the gondolas had also been shut down for safety until the winds died.

Nick didn't run into another living soul as he weaved his way up steep trails and through dense foliage drenched with rain. At least the canopy protected him somewhat from the storm's onslaught. But once in a while a gust of wind would break through, all the more vicious because of how high up he was. It felt like being slammed by a wall made of air. It stung Nick's nose, brought tears to his eyes, and knocked him backwards into bushes, railings, and other, more literal, walls. Twice, he felt his feet leave the ground for a few heart-pounding seconds before being dropped back down where he would cling to the nearest nailed-down thing he could grab until the gust had passed and he had caught his breath.

Then he'd continue.

The bar, when he finally reached it, look deserted. No lights shone from the windows, and vines hung heavy across the roof, having been untended to for several months at least. The walls, made from wood planks, bowed outwards, from weight or water damage or both.

Nick made his way to the front entrance. Water ran in rivulets over the gravel path. He didn't knock, but stood to the side as he reached for the handle and pushed open the door.

No shots came. No cries of alarm.

Nick peeked in.

Past the darkened booths and tables—only half of which still retained their chairs—was a bar steeped in shadow. A single mammal sat on the only remaining stool, nursing a drink.

"About time you got back here, Ray," they said. Male, with a higher pitched voice. "I'll assume the storm held you up and not the kit."

He laughed, the sound a bit strangled. He tossed the rest of his drink back and stood, collecting the raincoat that had been draped over the bar next to him and sliding into it.

"The job's done, I hope. We don't have time to make another run out to that godforsaken place before the cops started sniffing around, not in this weather. It's time for us to go underground for a while."

Nick, who had been standing in the doorway, stepped inside a kicked the door closed behind him. "In that case, can we stop off at the Gerbil Mart on the way? I'll need a toothbrush."

He took great satisfaction in watching the other animal go stiff at the sound of his voice.

Then they grabbed a barstool and hurled it at him.

Nick ducked, hissing as the stool clipped his shoulder, and lunged forward.

But the other animal sprang away, ears flopping, and landed, heavy and graceless, among the many rows of bottles of alcohol lined up behind the bar. They clinked and clanged as he struggled to catch his balance. What little light that made it through the front windows reflected off all the glass and illuminated his face just the slightest bit. But with Nick's keen night vision, it might as well have been a spotlight.

"Hello, Marty."

* * *

The floppy-eared bunny squinted at Nick through the gloom. "You—I know you. I've seen you on the news. You're that fox cop."

"And you are Marian's dear, dear friend, Marty Lop. Recently turned traitor."

"I am not a traitor.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. "But you _are_ Marty Lop. I admit that had been a guess on my part. Thank you for making it so easy. Well, no need to ask if you're guilty. Not after that nice overreaction."

Startled eyes glittered at him through the darkness.

Propping a shoulder against the wall, Nick folded his paws in front of him. "You know, when Robin mentioned you the other day, there was a moment when I wondered. But then I told myself—nah. He would never do something like that. Not to Marian. The dregs of optimism from my youth talking, I guess. So much for that." Nick cocked his head. "Now the only question I have left is whether or not Cottontail is in on this with you. Or do I owe that annoying rabbit an apology?"

"Peter?" Marty scoffed. "Please. That rabbit wouldn't know how to find vengeance if it bit him on the tail. I practically gift-wrapped the Corsacs for him, and he still didn't take the bait."

"Peter?" Realization struck Nick. He was very proud of himself for being able to hold his casual pose against the wall. "I knew that fur color wasn't natural. So this is about vengeance for you?"

"It would have been vengeance for Peter. For me, it's justice."

"Against the Corsacs? Even Marian, your _bestest fwend_?"

Marty snapped his teeth at that. "She is _not_ my friend. She used me, deceived me. Pretended that I meant so much to her. She said she loved me!"

The bottles wobbled beneath him. Marty caught himself on the glass rack and started making his way to a safer stretch of counter, uncluttered by alcohol.

Easing off the wall, Nick edged sideways, following him.

"Well, maybe she just lost interest. Did you try giving her clover?"

" _Flowers?_ " Marty scoffed. "An amateur move. What I did for her, no one else could have accomplished."

"And that was?"

Having finally escaped the sea of bottles, Marty released the glass rack and faced Nick fully. Nick slouched back against the wall. Marty jutted out his chin, head held high. "I got rid of Peter for her."

"Well. Consider me impressed," said Nick. "And how did you manage to do that?"

Marty jabbed a thumb at his chest. "I found him one day after school. He was crying out back, all pathetic. Apparently, he had gotten into trouble for another stupid stunt of his—like that was anything new. All it took was for Marian or one of her brothers to do something—pass a test he had failed, finish one of his chores before he got to it, compliment his mother on a new outfit first—and the dumb hothead would lash out like he always did, then whine that he was misunderstood after the fact."

Nick took a couple steps forward under the pretense of stretching his back. "Interesting. Go on."

"Apparently, his mother had gotten fed up with him and said some things. Peter was about to go groveling back to her, and I knew how it would play out. He'd apologize, she'd forgive him, and then a day or a week or a month later one of the Corsacs would do something that would set him off all over again and the cycle would continue, just like it always did."

"But you stopped that from happening?"

Marty puffed out his chest. "I convinced Peter to cut his losses and leave. Told him he was too smart and important to stay and be treated like some unwanted guest in his own home. The idiot was so starved for sympathy, he ate up everything I said. He even thanked me, and sought me out when he came back to town, giving me money and gifts."

"Nice of you not to take advantage."

Marty shrugged, unrepentant. "After all the years of terrorizing Marian, and me by extension, who was I to turn him away? Especially once I realized he wasn't going to help me like I wanted."

"Help you to get justice, you mean?"

"Of course! Here his mother had died, and he hadn't seen her in years, and what with it being all the Corsacs' fault..."

"Seems more like it was your fault to me," Nick said.

"But not to Peter," said Marty. "To him, I was and still am a treasured friend that all but saved his life. I have his best interests at heart, always. Marian, on the other hand, ruined his life. Doesn't it make sense that he'd want revenge for it?"

"Well when you say it like that..."

"But he did nothing!" Marty kicked a jar off the counter. Glass shattered and peanuts spilled out across the floor. "All those years, and when he finally got the nerve to face Marian, he just took those stupid recipe books and went! She's been working on her own recipes for years. Did he actually think that was going to hurt her? And when I convinced Marian that he had stolen her things and sent her brothers to confront him, he didn't even chew them out for it."

Nick straightened a toppled chair. Now there was only a single table and the bar between them.

"Let me guess, you were the one who was stealing things," said Nick.

Marty held up a set of keys, jingling them before returning them to his pocket. "Being a childhood friend has its perks."

Nick circled the table, drawing curlicues in the dust with a claw tip. "And breaking into his factory?"

Marty burst into giggles at that. "I got them to do it _twice. C_ an you believe it? I told her I would try and talk to Peter as an peaceful intermediary. Then, after a few days, I came back and told her he wouldn't listen to me, but that I had found out he was hiding her family's things in his factory with all his new product. Idiots. Marian was so out of her mind by then, I could have told her old Mrs. Hopson was a ghost in her attic and she probably would have believed me."

Something tickled Nick's paw. He looked down and saw that he had started gouging the table, leaving a long, thin strip of wood curling upwards like an apple peel. He dropped his paw and moved away from the table, redirecting his focus back to Marty, who was still going strong. "I didn't realize that Peter had finally cracked and gone to the police. So I moved on to a different plan."

"You hired the raccoon."

"I needed someone to clean it all up. I knew Marian was hiding some of her things in one of my old burrows, and that she was likely to go there at some point. It should have been an easy catch. But she was no longer answering my calls. Finally gotten wise, I guess. And then your partner had to go and butt in."

"Tough break," said Nick dryly. "But there's something I still don't understand."

Marty waited. Nick pressed his paws flat onto the bar. "Why do any of this if you supposedly cared about her so much? No matter what she's done, it can't justify going to such extremes."

"Cared? _Cared_?" spluttered Marty. "I _loved_ her! I thought after Peter left and things settled down… that we would finally become something."

He looked around the counter, and Nick wasn't sure if the sudden lost expression on his face had more to do with where he was or what he remembered.

"But time passed, and still nothing happened. So I decided to take the initiative."

Nick slid onto a stool in one fluid movement. "And let me guess, she rejected you."

"She thought I was joking. She _laughed_ at me. _But you're a bunny!_ She actually said that to me. As if it had anything to do with love.”

Nick said nothing.

"And what was even worse—she went on acting like everything was fine! Like we were still friends after she had ripped out my heart and crushed it."

"And yet you went along with it," Nick pointed out. "For several years, if my math is right."

Marty stared down at the mess of peanuts. In a soft, sad voice he repeated, "I loved her."

"You really do got a Dr. Jackal, Mr. Hyde thing going on, you know that?" said Nick.

Marty looked up, and he seemed to realize just how close they were now, a few feet and a couple of bottles of alcohol the only things separating them. With a flick of his tail, he hopped to the other end of the bar. Nick ground his teeth but stayed where he was, letting the bunny renew the distance between them.

Marty skidded to a stop at the far end. "Don't pretend like you don't understand," he said. "Like you're not also angling for something with that bunny partner of yours. A fox becoming a cop? Please. It's obvious something's going on there. Why else would you take the job?"

Nick froze in his seat, paws clenching into fists under the counter. "You don't understand anything about me."

"No? Would you even be a cop if she wasn't around?"

Nick pushed away from the bar in one violent motion that had Marty startling backwards and tripping over the beer dispenser.

“This conversation is getting boring," said Nick. "If you want to keep blabbering on, at least say something helpful. Like telling me where the Corsacs are."

Marty straightened with a snort. "I don't think so."

Nick started forward. "I'll just have to get it out of you at the station then."

"You won't."

Marty pulled something from his pocket. And it wasn't keys this time.

Nick went very still.

The tranquilizer gun gave off no reflection. It was visible only as a cold twist of blackness in Marty's paw.

"Ray gave it to me when I hired him," explained Marty. "For security or whatever." He squinted at Nick's wary posture and smirked. "Relax. I'm not going to shoot you with it. I'm a terrible shot. And in the dark, from this distance? It would just be a waste of darts."

"Forgive me if I'm not reassured by that," said Nick.

Marty giggled. In a sudden move that had Nick flinching, he tossed the weapon into the air. It landed on the bar and skidded along it for several feet before sliding sideways and off, landing with a heavy clatter on the floor near Nick's feet.

Nick made no move to reach for it. "Are you trying to hustle a fox, now, rabbit? because if you are, you're way out of your league."

"It’s not a hustle; it's a deal. The same one I gave Robin when he showed up making similar demands," said Marty. "You want to find Marian and her brothers alive? Well I want to get out of this without spending the rest of my life in prison. This gives us the chance to both get what we want."

"How?"

Marty mimed a gun with his paw and aimed it at his chest. "You shoot yourself."

"Ah. Well, as tempting as that deal sounds," said Nick, "I think I'll pass."

"You shoot yourself," repeated Marty, "Then, once you're out, I'll drop you off where I left Marian and the others. You'll have the opportunity to rescue them, and I'll have the opportunity to make my escape. If you manage it, then the Corsacs live and I'll be gone. If you don't—well, then I get what I want and still escape. Win-win."

'That's not how a win-win situation works."

"It's a fair shot for both of us."

"Fair, huh? Like going after Vixie was fair?"

"That Robin Swift came in and stole Marian away from me without so much as an apology. I was only returning the favor," said Marty. "Why are you bothering about that anyway? You don't even have anyone except your partner, and I no longer have the time or the means to go after her. Besides, the way that things are shaking out, she'll be too focused on Peter to worry about me." Marty gave him a nasty smile. "Do you think the odds are greater that she'll arrest him, or date him? I know Peter was well on his way to smitten the last we talked. I don't know if naming him as the prime suspect will put a damper on that. What do you think?"

"I think I know why Marian rejected you," said Nick, "and it had nothing to do with your species."

Marty snapped his teeth. "You can keep it up with your snarky responses for as long as you want. But the longer you put off answering, the slimmer the Corsacs' odds of surviving get. If you don't want to take the deal, then fine. Arrest me. Shoot me, for all I care. But then you'll forfeit any chance of saving the Corsacs. You might as well be killing them yourselves."

Nick rolled his eyes. "I'm not one of your gullible friends. You won't guilt me into accepting."

"If you say so. But it doesn't change the fact that this is the only way you'll have a hope of saving anyone."

"And how do I know that you're not lying? If I shoot myself, you might just leave me here and run, or finish me off, and the Corsacs will still die, if they're not dead already."

"I'm not lying," said Marty. "Of course, if you don't want to believe me then there's nothing I can do to prove it to you. But as a cop, isn't it your job to take risks for the citizens of Zootopia? Wouldn't a _real_ cop do whatever it took to rescue who he needed? And—bonus—you can impress his partner at the same time! Let's call it a test of your dedication to the job.”

Nick tried to stare him down, but it was hard to look intimidating when he knew his quarry could only make him out as a slightly redder shadow among a sea of shadows.

He retrieved the gun, keeping an eye on Marty in case the bunny used the moment to make a break for the door. But he stayed where he was, looking smug from his higher perch as he waited for Nick to make his decision.

Nick inspected the weapon carefully. It was indeed another tranquilizer gun. He was really getting sick of them. He checked the dart. It was a sedative. The dosage listed on the side told him it was a lower strength than what he had been shot with before. He shouldn't be out for more than a couple of hours, at most. Then again, if Marty was lying and planning on killing him, the bunny would only need a couple of seconds.

Reckless. Even Judy would have told him so. Then again, she had once tried to drive an out-of-commission train car full of drugs to the ZPD, exploding it and almost killing them both in the process. So really, she wasn't in a position to judge.

He looked up at Marty.

"If I do this, promise you'll take me to the Corsacs."

Marty covered his heart with one paw and with the other held up two furry digits. "Scout's honor."

Nick looked at the gun again. He took a breath, let it out, then brought the weapon up and aimed it at his arm.

_"Vixie's not the only one who needs her fox back."_

_Sorry, Carrots._

Nick pulled the trigger.

He barely felt the needle penetrate. It was a tiny sting washed away by a rush of vertigo. The sensation hit him like a wave, knocking his head back and sweeping his feet out from under him. Pain shot up his shoulder and head as he hit the floor.

Outside, lightning lit the sky, and for a moment it was brighter than day. It illuminated the bar and Marty, who skipped over to him, completely at ease now. His arrival at Nick's side was punctuated by an equally dramatic clap of thunder.

"Thank you of making it so easy," said Marty.

Nick would have dearly loved to punch him, but there must have been lead as well as sedative in the dart, because he limbs had become too heavy to lift.

Marty leaned over him, and Nick strained to keep his eyes open as he felt the bunny start picking through his pockets. He unclipped his walkie, then fished out his keys from his pocket along with his wallet and cell phone, which he turned off by crushing it beneath a chair leg.

He patted down his front pockets, and through the hazy blackness of oncoming sleep Nick saw him pull out something small and plastic and bright orange.

Panic surged through him. He shot out a paw, straining to reach before the bunny lifted the carrot too far away. But that two feet of distance might as well have been two miles. Already he could feel that little bit of adrenaline ebbing like the last rush of an outgoing tide. He wasn't going to make it. His whole arm was shaking from the effort of staying lifted.

_Just a little bit further... Just a few more inches..._

Fur brushed the tip of his claws. Nick gritted his teeth and _reached_.

"What—" yelped Marty, as Nick latched onto his wrist.

"Not... that one," panted Nick.

Marty eyed him and then the carrot with undisguised disgust. "You didn't strike me as the sentimental type."

Nick's laugh was breathless. "Shows what… you know. Sentimental… is my… ideal type."

Marty wrinkled his nose. "You're worse than I am."

Nick said nothing, too exhausted to argue another word. His heartbeat was slowing, his breathing evening out against his will as sleep dragged him under. He couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. He let them close, let every muscle in his body relax until he was focusing every last bit of his remaining strength on clinging to that furry wrist, desperate to hold on even as he felt his grip weakening… slipping away… He tried to rally, but he had nothing left. He was going to lose it. He was going to lose—

Marty snarled at him. "You want to keep it so badly? Fine. She can bury you with it for all I care."

He smacked Nick's paw away, and Nick felt the jerk as the bunny stuffed the carrot back into his pocket.

Good. Ok. That was all right. Now he could… Now he was…

"Dumb fox."

Nick sighed and let sleep carry him away.

* * *

Nick wasn't answering his phone.

Judy redialed, and redialed, and redialed, and every time it went to straight to voicemail. Why would he have his phone off? Was he in a place where stealth was paramount? Had the rain gotten to it? Or had someone gotten to _him_?

_Answer, Nick. Come on. Answer._

Cottontail watched her, his expression grave. "He's not picking up?"

Judy shook her head and dialed again.

"It might not be what you think it is," said Cottontail. "I mean, I know what you said. But your theory doesn't make sense. Marty adores Marian. Always has. We were at loggerheads for years because of it."

"I don't understand what happened either," said Judy. "But there are too many coincidences for me to just ignore. Did you try calling Marty yet?"

Cottontail held up his phone so she could see. "His phone must be off too."

Judy looked at her own phone. Another failed call.

_Enough of this._

She hung up and yanked open the break room door. She charged across the warehouse, ignoring the pairs of long ears that ducked behind trucks as she passed.

Cottontail bounded after her. "Where are you going now?"

"To find a carrot."

Cottontail looked confused. "Is this the time to be snacking?"

"It's not that kind of carrot."

"What other kind is there?"

Judy tapped on an app on her phone and a map of Zootopia started to load, a blinking carrot icon center on the screen. "The trackable kind."

"Is that supposed to be Officer Wilde?" asked Cottontail.

"Yes."

_LOADING… LOADING…_

"Service is terrible here," he said. "If we go back to my office—"

She didn't have time for that.

Spotting a side door, Judy ducked through it and found herself outside on a loading bay. Rain crashed down on the metal overhang and ran over the picnic benches like small, tiered waterfalls.

_LOADING… LOAD—_

Block by block the map began appearing around the carrot icon. White and white and more white.

Cottontail peered over her shoulder. She hadn't noticed him follow her out. "What's wrong with your map? Did the app crash?"

"No."

"But there's nothing on it. It's just blank space."

"That's not blank space," said Judy. She zoomed out, stomach dropping as the whiteness expanded, mile upon mile upon mile.

"It's snow. Nick's in Tundratown."


	12. Chapter 12

Nick was back on that strange and echoing dance floor. Everything looked the same. The space was still infinite in size and yet intimate in lighting. The floor retained its impossible shine. But this time, instead of being in the center under the spotlight, Nick stood at its edges, mingling with the shadows as he watched Judy dance. Not alone, but with someone else.

_Cottontail_.

The bunny held her one paw in his own, the other resting at a respectful height around her waist. And he was leading her in a sweeping waltz across the dance floor. His posture was perfect, his movements flawless, and his tux impeccable in both style and appearance.

In fact, the only hitch to the scene came from Judy, who, while determined, was not the most graceful bunny that there ever was. And Cottontail didn't have the height or strength to support her through every stumble the way Nick had. Instead of turning her occasional misstep into an impromptu lift or her faltering into a twirl, they'd both trip, or slow, somehow staying in sync even when falling out of it.

But then Judy would laugh in a self-deprecating way or stammer an apology, and Cottontail would wave the moment away with a charming word or a distracting compliment and propel them onward, their steps aligned one more.

A feeling almost like grief wrapped around Nick's heart and squeezed. He wanted to go out there, cut in with a suave remark the would make Judy swoon and send Cottontail packing, but his feet felt frozen to the floor and no brilliant one-liner came to mind. He couldn't miss how happy they looked. How happy _she_ looked. And he knew that if he went out there, he would ruin that.

_I should leave._

The thought lingered, and yet so did Nick. It felt like he stood there for hours watching them dance. Unnoticed, unneeded, and worst of all, unmissed.

A paw dropped onto his shoulder. Nick looked over to find Marty standing there next to him. Nick knew he should be alarmed, but somehow couldn't quite work up the energy to care.

The bunny gestured to the dancing couple. "Woken up now, have you, dumb fox? You knew it was never going to be you anyway."

Nick shrugged off the bunny's paw. "I never said it would be."

"We have to get them back."

Nick looked away. "Just leave me alone."

On the dance floor, Judy tripped, falling into Cottontail and almost sending them both tumbling. But the charming rabbit caught himself, and her, holding Judy close with a murmured, "Careful now," that raised Nick's hackles and made him understand for the first time why wolves felt the urge to howl. Especially when Judy smiled and looked away, shy and happy in a way he'd never seen before.

The paw returned to his shoulder. He'd already forgotten Marty was there, and the touch was an unwelcome intrusion into his pain.

The bunny yanked him around. "We're running out of time here."

He gave Nick a sharp shake, snapping his head forward and back, and the motion sent a shock of piercing cold through Nick. He shuddered, fur lifting as he broke out in gooseflesh. He was freezing. He was—

“—being an idiot! You call yourself a cop? Wake up!"

Nick tried to escape the bunny's grip, but Marty was surprisingly strong for a bunny. Probably because he wasn't a bunny at all. He was a fox. A growling, angry fox that wouldn't get out of Nick's face or stop shaking him no matter how hard Nick tried to get away. The cold was getting worse. It pervaded fur and skin and bones until Nick was shuddering from chill of it. Wind whistled around them, whipping around the darkened dance floor. Nick couldn't see Judy or Cottontail anymore. Just Marty, the bunny who wasn't a bunny, shouting into his face for him to—

" _Wake up!_ "

An icy paw smacked him across the face. Nick jerked and lurched upright. Robin watched him with narrowed eyes, breathing heavy, his paw raised to smack him again. "Are you with me now?"

Nick shivered, a violent thing that shook his entire frame and made his canines click together. He wrapped his arms around himself in an effort to find some warmth, but there was none to be had when he was already freezing. His slicker might have kept out the wet but it did nothing for the cold.

Robin, he noticed, was wearing a parka.

He took in the room. They looked to be in some kind of abandoned shack. The walls were made from sheets of metal nailed to a wood frame. They wobbled and rumbled with every gust of wind outside. One bare lightbulb hung from the ceiling, stained black from where it had burned out long ago. A furnace sat in the corner, empty except for an icy slush of ash. And everywhere, scattered over the entire room, was junk. It looked like someone had been trying to create their own indoor scrap heap. Broken poles of rebar, chunks of rotten wood, large pieces of construction equipment that had been partially dissembled and left to rust. On a table were even more bits and bobs, including piles of old newspaper, yellow and crispy with age, and the leftover crusts of a half-frozen and well-aged tuna sandwich.

"Where—"

"Tundratown," said Robin. "Obviously. But where in Tundratown I couldn't tell you."

"How far are we from the main square? Do you know?"

Robin shook his head. "Hard to say. But my guess? Far." He waved to the door before stuffing his paws back into the pockets of his coat. "See for yourself. It's not locked."

Nick picked his way over to it, careful not to catch himself on any of the jagged pieces of metal jutting out from the piles of trash.

The door was little more than a reinforced sheet of metal with a simple bolt and latch. As he reached for it, the whole shack groaned in response to the storm outside. He was already freezing. The idea of opening the door and welcoming in that icy wind, if only for a moment, was almost too intimidating to face. But he had to see.

The latched flipped up easily. Not that he had doubted Robin, but it still seemed a massive oversight on Marty's part. Even if he genuinely meant to give them a chance, surely he wouldn't make it this easy?

He slid the bolt free. The second it was disengaged, the door blasted inward with a shriek of wind and a crash of metal.

The cold was immediate and all encompassing. Nick shuddered and doubled over, hugging his arms tight around himself. Snow swirled around him, beautiful flakes of ice that stuck to his fur and sent additional shocks of cold straight through to his skin.

Nick clenched his teeth and looked out.

White. That was all he saw. White below and white above. Only the dappled gray clouds made it possible to discern what was ground and what was sky. Snow covered every surface. It filled the very air, dancing in swirling chaos with the wind.

Nick breathed in. The air was thin. Very thin. And it wasn't just the cold and wind stealing away his breath. They were high up. Mountainously high.

He squinted watery eyes that were already trying to freeze shut into the raging blizzard and thought he could just make out the twinkle of lights far, far below. Impossible to gauge an exact distance, but it was clear that they were farther out than Zootopia's most remote and exclusive resorts, higher up than anyone would dare build a lift.

_So that's why._

He fought to close the door, but the wind was indefatigable and had no desire to give up it's newly acquired space. Robin had to come over and help him. Together they managed to force the door back into position. Nick slammed home the bolt.

They stepped away, both shivering and breathing hard. They shared a look.

"The Corsacs?" asked Nick.

Robin led him back the way they'd come, around a corner so cloaked in shadow Nick hadn't noticed it initially. It was barely more than a niche set into the wall, with an old wooden trestle table shoved against it. And under it, bundled in a pile of winter wear, were the Corsacs.

They were snuggled together, only their faces visible under all the layers. Marian and Reynard stirred at their approach. Only Todd remained, cuddled between his siblings, his breathing strained and his gaze half-focused.

"Are y-you here to arrest us?" asked Marian.

Nick didn't like it, the guilt he felt then. He tried to dredge up some of his previous anger to combat it. These foxes might be victims, but they were also responsible for kidnapping Judy and almost getting her killed.

But as he took in their drawn faces and the fine, constant tremors that shook them, all he could muster up was a frustrated sort of pity.

"Actually," he told them, "I came to save you."

"Arrest or s-save, they're close enough at th-this point," said Reynard.

"Please tell me you have a brilliant escape plan," said Robin.

"I might," said Nick. Adding after a moment, "Eventually."

"What about backup?"

Nick checked his pockets. He pulled out the plastic carrot, relieved to find he still had it. But it was impossible to tell if it was still working, or if they were still in range, or if Judy was using it to look for him.

"P-please tell me that's n-not your backup," said Reynard.

Nick tucked the carrot away. "All right. It's not."

Reynard groaned. Nick wasn't sure if it was in response to him or the cold.

"I'm positive someone will come looking for us," said Nick. "The more concerning question is when."

"We can't wait around," said Robin. Dropping his voice he added just to Nick, "We have to get them back. _Soon_."

Nick couldn't help but agree with that assessment. Marian and Todd especially weren't looking well. They needed heat, liquids, and rest, in that order.

Robin took Nick by the arm and tugged him away. In a lower voice he said, "Do you really have no other plan than to wait around and hope someone finds us in time?"

"Hey, it was a bit spur of the moment, coming here. I didn't exactly have time to write up a detailed rescue mission," defended Nick. "And I don't want to hear it from the fox who did the exact same thing."

Robin's ears drooped. "I left a note."

"Yeah, that your little sister almost got killed trying to protect.”

Robin looked up, expression horrified. "What? Is she okay? What happened? Did she—"

"She's fine," said Nick. "Not even a scratch. They should teach self-defense archery in school."

Robin nodded, but it was in a distracted, worried sort of way. "Good. That's… good."

"Yeah."

Robin rubbed his chin, lost in thought. Nick wrapped his arms around himself and tried to will warmth into his body. Too much longer and they were going to have to join the Corsacs under the pile of clothes.

"How long have you been awake?" Nick asked.

"Hm?" said Robin. "Oh, not long. In fact, you were already here when I woke up. I wasn't sure who had gotten here first. But Marian and Reynard were both awake when Marty dragged us in, and they said it was a difference of a few hours, so…"

"He came back twice, and they didn't try and fight him or anything?"

"They were tied up." Robin waved to a frayed pile of rope in the corner. "That was the first thing I did when I woke up. Then I checked around, while I waited for you to come to.”

"You call that waiting?" said Nick. His cheeks still stung from where the fox had struck him.

Robin gave him the hint of a smile. "Sorry. But time was ticking, you know?"

"Yeah," said Nick somberly. "I know. Did _you_ happen to see Marty?"

Robin's eyes went hard. "No."

Nick looked around. "I wonder how that bunny managed to get all of us up here."

"Actually," said Robin, "I have a theory about that."

"Really?"

"Yes. I'll show you." He eyed Nick's outfit. "But first we need to get you into some better clothes."

He returned to the Corsacs. Crouching down, he spoke softly to Marian and Reynard. Marian nodded. Together, she and her brother untangled a few pieces of winter clothes from the bundle. Nick noticed that Robin was careful not to take anything directly covering Marian or her siblings.

He returned and handed the clothes to Nick. "Here."

"Thanks." Nick put them on, zipping his rain slicker over all of it. It might not be insulated, but it would keep what he had from getting wet.

"Where did you find so many clothes?" asked Nick.

Robin shrugged. "Marian says they were here when they woke up."

Nick fingered the scarf now wrapped snugly around his neck and wondered. Unlike all the other junk in the shack, the clothes didn't appear to be forgotten cast-offs. They were unworn, clean, possibly brand new, and the sizes were almost exact.

When Nick pointed this out, Robin nodded. "I also found it strange that I wasn't tied up. Nor were you."

Nick thought. "Marty gave me this big spiel about saving the Corsacs. He mentioned he gave you the same?"

"He did."

At Nick's thoughtful silence, Robin snorted. "You don't think he actually meant it, do you?”

Instead of answering, Nick said, "You wanted to show me something?"

Robin led him outside. Despite being marginally better prepared for it this time, Nick still cringed as the first blast of cold hit him.

Robin led him around the side of building. Here, with the shack as a windbreak, the temperature was almost tolerable. Robin pointed to two dark parallel lines peaking out of the snow.

"Are those tram rails?" asked Nick.

Robin nodded.

"But I don't remember ever hearing about a bunny tram line coming up this way."

"That because there isn't one," said Robin. "They either go around or under Tundratown's mountains. But I remember my great-grandparents talking about how they used to use trains to haul building supplies and whatever other natural materials where they needed in order to build Zootopia's landscapes. I think this might be what's leftover from that."

"It's that old?" Nick looked back at the shack. "Then whatever you do, don't eat that tuna sandwich."

Robin barked out a laugh, the sound of which was snatched away by the storm. He patted Nick's chest. "This way. I have something else to show you."

They followed the railway back. It was slow going. Without the building to shelter them, they had to contend with the full brunt of the storm's rage. Nick made sure to keep Robin close and stick to the rail's cross-ties. If it weren't for that, finding their way to anywhere, even back to the shack, would have been impossible. Visibility was next to zero. They could have been headed right for a fissure and not even known it until they were falling in.

"You actually came out this way all by yourself?" said Nick. He had to yell just to be heard over the storm. Wind buffeted them. Robin hunkered lower and pushed forward, Nick following.

"I wanted to see if I could find anything that might be useful. What if we were only yards from help and didn't even know it because of the storm?"

"But if something had happened to you there would have been no way to know," said Nick.

"Why do you think I let you sleep?" said Robin. "If something happened to me, I knew you'd still be there. Marian, Todd, Reynard, they'd still have a chance." He threw Nick a sudden grin over his shoulder. Snowflakes stuck to his canines and melted there. "Even if it was an _unplanned_ chance."

Nick refused to be amused.

Something large and dark loomed ahead of them, appearing out of the swirling snow like a giant's shadow. Though it was crazy to imagine, Nick's first thought was that they had stumbled upon a stranded elephant.

"What is that?" said Nick.

Robin's answer was drowned out by a screech of wind. Giving up, he gestured for them to continue forward.

The darkness ahead of them grew and deepened, the tracks making a straight path for it and disappearing inside.

Not an elephant, after all. A cave.

Robin and Nick stepped inside, brushing snow from their coats. The ceiling towered over the foxes, icicles suspended in deadly wait.

Robin followed the tracks back. It wasn't a very deep cave. It ended at a solid wall not twenty feet in. But it wasn't the wall they had come to see. On the last stretch of tracks sat the strangest vehicle Nick had ever seen. It almost look like the bed of a truck without the cab—low sides, no top. It sat low on the tracks, four dented wheels with a connecting crank on one side that might have been an emergency brake.

There was a small bucket seat in front. Nick inspected the controls. No wheel, just several buttons and two levers, one labeled with a F-N-R, the other 0-20mph.

"Don't get excited," said Robin. "It doesn't work. But I think Marty might have used one that did, or something similar to it, in order to get us here."

"There are a bunch of tools and equipment in that shack," mused Nick. "Think we might be able to use any of it to fix this?"

Robin raised an eyebrow. "Possibly. But unless you're a secret technician on top of being a hustler and a cop…"

" _Former_ hustler," corrected Nick. “Does that mean fixing vehicles isn't covered under your job description of _philanthropist_ either then?"

Robin was unruffled. "Unfortunately. But if we survive I might think about adding it to the list."

"You do that." Nick climbed into the driver's seat. He tried pressing some buttons, and when nothing happened he smacked it. "Nothing."

"You mean hitting it didn't magically fix it?" said Robin. "I'm shocked."

Nick scowled at him. Grabbing one of the levers, he yanked it into neutral. There was a grinding noise and then a click. The vehicle wobbled under him.

"Well, there's no way we can carry the Corsacs all the way to town," he said, hopping out and going around to the back. "But maybe between the two of us it'll be possible to push it."

" _Push_ it?"

Nick gave the back of the vehicle a tentative shove. The wheels rocked along the track. "Yeah. I think it'll work."

"You're joking," said Robin. " _This_ is your plan?"

"Once we get it going, it should be similar to riding a bike. As long as we can keep up momentum… and we should be going downhill most of the way…"

"A bike," said Robin. "This is nothing like riding a bike."

"You got any other ideas?" asked Nick, cupping his paws together and huffing into them. His paws had been half numb even before touching the frozen metal.

"Unfortunately, I can't say that I do." Robin looked at the vehicle and then at Nick. “What is it? You look like something’s bothering you.”

“There are a lot of things bothering me right now,” said Nick. "We really don't have time to run through them all."

He clapped his paws together, both to change the subject and to try and force some feeling back into them. "How about a test run?" he said. "We can push this back, see if we can even make it that far. That way if it works, and we decide to go for it, we won't have to make a second trip out here to collect it."

"If only the rest of your idea sounded so reasonable," said Robin, but he joined Nick at the back of the strange cart vehicle, and together they braced to push.

"Ready?" asked Nick, and at Robin's nod, said, "On three."

"Three," said Robin.

They both shoved. The cart resisted for one muscle-straining moment, and then gave, rolling forward with much creaking and groaning but smooth despite all that.

They pushed it out of the cave, and even with the wind blowing against them it wasn't unmanageable. The cart blocked the worst of the wind from striking them directly, and Nick was right that once they got it moving it took very little effort to keep it in motion.

They brought it to a stop outside the shack and hurried inside. Nick couldn't feel his nose or his paws anymore, and he was distressed at how little difference there was in temperature between inside the shack and outside. It was like a thermic illusion. The sudden absence of wind and snow made it seem warmer, but really, the only difference was wind chill. The room was still below freezing.

Only Reynard was awake when they rejoined the Corsacs. Marian was sleeping fitfully against him. Todd was no more than a curled up lump in his lap.

"How are you?" Nick asked Reynard.

"I s-stopped feeling my tail two hours ago," said Reynard. "So, not great. I don't suppose your plastic carrot brought backup y-yet?"

"Not yet," said Nick.

"Well if you could maybe tell it to hurry? Because Todd's not d-doing so great either, and I like him even more than my t-tail, if you get what I mean."

Nick did.

"Have you—" Reynard stopped.

"Have I what?" asked Nick.

"It's j-just… Craven. We haven't really been able to… is he doing okay? We heard he was found, but not whether…"

"He's still in the hospital," said Nick. "He hasn't woken up yet. But the doctors are optimistic." Maybe they were. Nick hadn't spoken to them directly.

Reynard leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "You're lying. You're j-just trying to make me feel better. We r-really must be screwed."

"Don't count us out just yet. Robin and I have thought of an idea—"

Robin crouched down next to them. "Don't feel obligated to share credit now. I give it all to you."

"Generous."

"It's what I do."

Robin reached out to Marian, his teasing air fading into concern. "Marian, my darling, I need you to wake up for me now."

He gave her gentle shake. Marian whimpered and tried to burrow further against Reynard. Robin persisted. "Come on, sweetheart. Open those beautiful eyes for me. You can do it."

Dark lashes fluttered open and met his own. "R-Robin?"

"That's right. I'm here."

Tears welled. "I'm so c-cold, Robin. I'm so tired and cold."

"I know, darling. We're working on it now."

"A-are we?" asked Reynard.

Robin sighed. "Nick does have a plan. Of sorts."

"And on that fantastic introduction…" Nick sat back. "Basically, we have two options. We can either wait here and hope that my partner and the ZPD find us in time, or we can try and save ourselves."

"S-save ourselves how?" asked Reynard.

"Robin found transportation. It's not ideal, but it just might get us to help before we all freeze to death. But it will be a risky trip. There are a lot of things that could go wrong that we won't be able to anticipate—"

"W-whereas if we stay, there's only one way things could g-go wrong," said Reynard. "Wonderful."

"We can't stay,” whispered Marian. Her gaze fell to the unmoving lump that was Todd.

"Then we go," said Nick. "Simple as that."

No one looked particularly relieved by the decision.

"If I could have a word with you?" said Robin.

Nick followed him away.

"Tell me what was bothering you in the cave,” said Robin.

"This again?" said Nick. "I told you—"

"And I don't believe you. Now, you can't get Marian _and_ Todd _and_ Reynard out of here without my help, and I'm not going anywhere until I know what you're not telling me."

"It's nothing," said Nick. At Robin's look, he said, "Fine. It's not nothing. But it's not anything you need to know. It doesn't change what we have to do."

"Then you shouldn't mind filling me in."

Nick gritted his teeth around a growl. "Fine. You want to know what's bothering me so badly? That we weren't tied up when we got here. That's what's bothering me. That we were left coats, and possibly even that terrible bit of transport. Almost like Marty wanted us to leave."

“You believe he’s really giving us a chance?" said Robin.

"Or at least the illusion of one.”

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Think about it. The Corsacs are wanted criminals right now. Supposedly kidnapped. But if they're found dead here, or anywhere out there, unrestrained, dressed for the weather, on the move, hale besides that deadly bit of hypothermia they've got, everyone is going to think they ran. That they weren't kidnapped after all. That they were evading the police and just too dumb or unlucky to make it."

"But with you and I with them…"

"You mean Marian's ex and a newbie cop? Both of whom are also foxes? They'll just think we teamed up. You'll be the gullible boyfriend who couldn't let go and I'll be the crooked cop who chose his own kind over justice. The story practically writes itself."

Robin, who had been rubbing his forehead as if Nick was giving him a headache, dropped his paw. "You're right. It is bothersome. And it doesn't change anything. It's not like I'm going to tie Marian and her brothers back up and leave them for dead just so the world will know they were victims. I'd rather they'd live as criminals."

"Well, hopefully we'll all live long enough to prove them wrong," said Nick.

Robin looked at him. "All of us? The last time we spoke, you didn't seem too sympathetic about what happened to Marian or her brothers."

"Really? You're going to waste time getting on me about that now?" said Nick. "Look, I'm not saying they don't have a lot to answer for. But I'll admit I was wrong to write them off. Even a fox can be wrong once in a while."

Robin smiled at that, but then he sobered again. "You're partner. Judy."

Just the mention of her name sent all sorts of thoughts and feelings zinging through Nick. Guilt and worry. Longing. Watching Robin with Marian was difficult in more than one way.

Nick looked at the other fox warily. "What about Judy?"

"If something happens to us, and Zootopia thinks we're guilty, what will she do?"

Nick thought about it, feeling both proud and pained as he said, "She’ll try everything she can to prove are innocence. She’ll never give up."

Robin nodded as if he'd suspected as much. "Then we will try too," he said. "Try anything. Isn't that how the song goes?"

Nick groaned. "Figures I'd get stuck on top of a frozen mountain with a Gazelle fan. And here I thought our circumstances couldn't get any worse. If you start singing, I won't be held accountable if you somehow fall into a fissure."

Robin laughed and clapped him on the back. "Don't worry. I'm more a bluegrass fan myself."

"You're not making it better." But if the fox was feeling optimistic enough to tease, then maybe things weren't as dire as they felt. Or maybe Nick wasn't the only one who was skilled at putting on a false front.

Either way, two could play the game. So Nick slapped on his cockiest smile and rejoined the other foxes. They had a rescue to plan for themselves.

* * *

Judy had never seen the city streets so empty. Only the occasional emergency vehicle, their lights flashing and sirens blaring, appeared with any regularity. Once, she saw a caravan of antelope putter passed at an intersection, but everyone else seemed to have taken cover. The only other vehicles remaining in the streets now were the ones that had been hastily parked along the curb, which were starting to flood. Judy saw more than one micro-vehicle float by, all empty, thank goodness, but she felt for the mice and other small mammals who would venture out after the storm was over and find they no longer had a car to retrieve.

Water poured in frothing currents into the gutters and entire blocks were dark where the electricity had failed. Trashcans and patio furniture from the local outdoor cafes whose owners either hadn't had time to secure anything before taking cover or who had underestimated the severity of the storm lay tipped over on the sidewalks half a block down from where they should be, and tree limbs from as far as the Rainforest District littered the street.

On one particularly flooded street corner, Judy had to stop and lecture a group of teen hippos who were enjoying the novelty of having a pond in the middle of the road. She’d told them to seek shelter at the nearest river crossing or she’d be forced to take them down to the station. They'd trudged away in a huff, and Judy had watched them go until she was sure they wouldn't double back before continuing on.

It was a relief when she finally reach the Climate Wall. She took the express tunnel to Tundratown, the rain that had been lashing the cruiser cutting off as cleanly as a switch being flipped. Over the rumble of the engine, Judy could hear the strained hum of machinery as the Climate Wall struggled to keep the weather for Zootopia balanced in the storm.

On the walkways that lined the sides of the tunnel, animals who had been caught out in the weather loitered around, waiting things out. Some chatted in small groups. Others stood apart, listening to music or playing on their phones, trying to get a signal. The dim lighting gave them the washed out sickly look of refuges escaping from some apocalyptic tragedy. But they all looked hale, if bored, and Judy didn't stop.

Without having to focus on getting her vehicle through the weather obstacle course that was blustering outside the tunnel, it was too easy for Judy's mind to slip back to thoughts of Nick. She couldn't stop worrying, theorizing, _fearing_ what might have happened to him. He had left the Swift's residence after getting a lead on Robin's whereabouts. Now his phone was off and the GPS put him on top of one of the highest mountains in Tundratown. During a blizzard. Why? It was the lack of communication more than his location that scared her. He could be off doing a hundred things, but he should have let her know first. If he wasn't in some sort of trouble, he would have let her know.

Half a mile before the tunnel ended, Judy felt a chill start to creep into the cruiser. She turned up the heat and punched on the defroster just as the first snowflakes began drifting down and sticking to her windshield.

Up ahead, whiteness spread like ice across Judy's vision. It looked so solid, she feared for a moment that the tunnel had frozen over and she would crash into a wall of snow, broken and blocked and unable to help Nick or the Corsacs. But then her eyes adjusted and she saw the swirling gray fluff of low hanging storm clouds, and the bright green fringe of evergreen trees under their blankets of snow, and then she was out of the tunnel with a whole new kind of storm raging around her. But the way was clear and she hit the gas, going as fast as she dared on the ice slick road.

She turned onto Snowcastle Way and then up the long driveway lined with fir trees. A sign made from a huge chunk of chiseled granite let her know she had reached the Tundratown branch of the ZPD. Through the swirling snow ahead a building rose up like a cliff rising from the earth, and Judy had to collect herself when she realized she had actually taken her foot off the gas in her awe of the sight.

She had expected something complimentary to the ZPD's main office, something similar in design but smaller in scale. A building made for support.

Tundratown's branch was nothing like that.

Part fortress, part palace, not one foot of its design lacked purpose or beauty. Thick stone walls reinforced with columns of ice made it not only impossible to penetrate, but impossible to scale. Elegant glass domes the color of the deepest ocean topped four turrets, one for every corner of the building. Each turret had multiple notch windows perfect for snipers and was covered in rose vines. Every part of the flower, from petal to stem, was a shining gray. Then Judy looked closer and saw that was because the vines were made from some type of metal, knife sharp and intricate as an art piece. Any animal foolish enough to try and climb it would find themselves instantly sliced and bloody.

Judy pulled up to the front entrance and got out. Cold cut through her jacket as if it were cotton—because it was—and the wind tried to pull the scarf from her throat. She grabbed it and held on.

The oversized front doors appeared to be made of wood, but Judy suspected that if a herd of elephants tried to break them down, they'd all find themselves nursing headaches for the next several days. In jail. On each door was etched a full-sized bear on its hinds legs, paws spread and teeth bared in a snarl, while smaller animals took cover behind it. Judy found the depiction of the cowering bunny the first less-than-impressive thing about the place.

The front doors clicked and groaned, parting open just enough to give Judy a glimpse of marble floors and warm yellow firelight. A snow leopard appeared on the front steps. She had thick white fur dappled with black spots in an almost regal pattern across her face, with prominent cheekbones and a strong jaw. Natural black stripes underlined sapphire colored eyes that pinned Judy to the step.

"Officer Judy Hopps, I presume?"

“That’s me,” said Judy, unconsciously pitching her voice deeper to sound more impressive. "Are you Commander Stelmaria? Clawhauser said he spoke with you about—"

"He did." The cat raised her chin. "I've spared all the officers I can to help you, but we have our own problems to deal with right now thanks to the storm."

"You're doing more than enough," said Judy. "I appreciate it. Really."

Commander Stelmaria clapped her paws together. Immediately, a mountain goat, a polar bear, and two arctic wolves appeared next to her. She gestured to the goat. “This is Officer Dill. Don't let the lazy eyes fool you, he's tough as rocks. He'll get you where you need to go."

The goat, unbothered by her description, smiled and waved at Judy. "Hello!"

"Hello," said Judy.

The commanded nodded at the polar bear. "This is Officer Eisbaer. In case you run into trouble out there, she's your bear."

The giant bear officer dipped her head in a silent hello to Judy. Judy did the same.

The wolves let out excited yips, shoving each other and snickering. The commander cleared her throat. They immediately went silent, dropping their heads, though they still kept bumping each other with their elbows.

"Officers Fang and Clawe. They're parents gave up on originality when it came to names by the time they came along, but they're good in a pinch. And they take orders well. Is that what you're wearing?"

Judy looked down at herself. "What? This? Well…" She had stopped off at her apartment on the way and changed into the heaviest clothes she owned. But now that she was outside, it didn't seem like near enough. She was already freezing, and they hadn't even gone anywhere yet.

"A tiny bit of fluff like you will turn into an ice cube in no time dressed like that. Officer Fang, get this rabbit some appropriate clothes. Maybe something from Ms. Mink."

"Yes, Commander." The wolf disappeared inside. As if by an invisible lead, his partner followed.

"I feel it's only right to tell you," said Judy. "I wasn't able to get in contact with Chief Bogo. He's out right now helping secure Little Rodentia from flooding. So this mission isn't exactly authorized…"

Commander Stelmaria sniffed, tail lashing against the steps. " _Chief_ Bogo. Like that overgrown warthog has any real power over us. This is Tundratown. _My_ say is what goes here. And if I want to supply aid to an officer that is my prerogative. Have you nailed down the location yet?"

Judy pulled out her phone. The signal was flickering, but so far she hadn't lost it yet. She showed it to the leopard.

"The mountains," murmured the leopard. "The storm will be worse there. Too dangerous to use a chopper. You'll have to stick to snow vehicles and hope you can find a way through. Officer Dill—"

The goat leapt over to join them. Commander Stelmaria handed him the phone. "Do what you can with that. And find an ice case for it. This piece of plastic won't last in those mountains."

"Yes, Commander."

The wolves returned with a small pile of clothes. Judy swapped out her coat, slipped the pants on over her own for an additional layer, then added a hat, snow mask, and gloves as they were passed to her.

The Commander watched her dress with narrowed eyes. "You know, my officers have the location and they are well trained. You don't have to go out there with them if you don't care to."

Judy adjusted the strap of her mask. "Are you saying that because I'm a bunny?"

"No," said the leopard. "I've seen snowshoe hares who were twice as tough as wolves. But you will be out of your element, and the risk is unnecessary."

"With all due respect," said Judy. "My partner's out there. Not that I don't trust your officers, but I'm not going to leave him in someone else's paws. I _will_ help get him back."

Commander Stelmaria said nothing, but there was a glint her in eyes Judy liked to think was grudging respect. Or maybe she was just thinking about all the extra paperwork she would have to fill out if Judy got herself killed in her district.

The snow vehicles were brought around. Officers Fang and Clawe both let out excited howls and made a dash for them. There were three vehicles in all. Officer Eisbaer had already claimed her own. It was the biggest of the three, and had a second compartment connected to it, very similar to a medical trailer. Officer Dill claimed the front vehicle, which had a decked out navigation system installed in the control panel. That left the wolves to share the last. They broke out into a furious but short tussle over who got to drive. Officer Fang won.

Officer Dill waved Judy over and handed her back her phone, now enclosed in a special cold-resistant case. "I have a route, but just in case, keep an eye on your GPS. If your partner's direction changes, let me know and we'll adjust accordingly."

"Got it." She hopped onto the seat behind him and, seeing the others putting on their snow masks, did the same.

From the front steps, Commander Stelmaria held up a paw. "Don't forget: Be smart, be strong, be successful." She bowed her head. "And be safe. Go."

They went.


	13. Chapter 13

Once they had made the decision to leave, Nick and Robin wasted no time. Together, they got everyone bundled up in every last stitch of clothing that they had. Nick even crumpled up the old newspaper and made everyone stuff some between their layers for added insulation. Then they got the Corsacs to the cart.

Todd had to be carried. Marian managed to walk, but only by leaning heavily against Robin. Reynard was the only one who made it under his own steam, though he was trembling and doubled over by the time he got there.

Nick did a last check of the shack. He found two shovels of manageable size, and after a short internal debate decided to bring them along. The possible usefulness surpassed the added weight. He also grabbed a crumbled tarp. It was ratty and paint-splattered, but it would keep off the worst of the wet.

He lugged it all outside to their strange and defunct cart vehicle. Robin took the tarp while he secured the shovels. Marian watched with sad eyes as Robin carefully tucked the plastic covering around her and Todd's shoulders.

"Why are you h-here?"

Nick's head shot up at the sudden accusation, but Marian's question hadn't been directed at him. With a sympathetic glance over at Robin, he made his way to the front of the cart, both to check the brakes and gear shift, and to give them some privacy.

When Robin didn't respond, only folded the tarp more securely around her, Marian grabbed his paw, stopping him. She went on more fervently. "You shouldn't b-be here. I didn't want you involved in this."

At that, he gave her a small, crooked smile. "Ah, well, you know me. I was never able to mind my own business like I should."

Her grip on him tightened, her claws digging in, though neither of them could feel it. "That w-w-wasn't what I m-m-m-m—" She clamped her jaw shut as shivers wracked her, frustrated tears springing to her eyes. Robin saw and quickly made to wipe them away. But they had already frozen, breaking off like tiny icicles against his gloves.

"Shh. You can't afford to cry now, my darling," he murmured to her. "Wait until we get back, and then I promise you can tell me off as much as you want to, okay?"

"Y-y-you are s-so frustrating," was all she managed.

"A sentiment I wholly agree with," said Nick, coming back around. "But if you two could finish your little tiff _after_ we get off this mountain?" He turned to Reynard, who had been leaning against the cart. "In you go."

"I'm helping push."

Nick shared a glance with Robin, who said, "You don't need to do that."

"It'll be waste of your remaining strength," added Nick.

"I d-don't care."

They stood there, facing off, Reynard gripping the side of the cart. Nick wasn't convinced that wasn't the only thing keeping the fox standing right now. But his chin was lifted, his jaw set, and his eyes dared Nick and Robin to make him get in.

"Fine," snapped Nick. "You want to tire yourself out pointlessly? Be my guest. But you stumble even once, you get in the cart. Agreed?"

Reynard gave him a tight nod.

"Then let's do this thing." He threw the cart into neutral, then took a place between Robin and Reynard. The better to keep an eye on both of them.

They started pushing.

* * *

Benjamin Cottontail—formerly known as Peter Hopson—paced his office with the constant exactness of a pendulum swing. He'd cross the front of his desk, taking exactly fifteen steps to the giant glass windows that made up the outside wall of his office, pause for a moment to ponder the storm, then, with a sharp turn on his heel, pace fifteen steps back.

He told himself that he should go, get some work done, plan out how he was going to minimize the damage when Judy returned to arrest him like she'd said she would. They both knew his punishment would be minimal, if he didn't escape it entirely, but it would still be bad press for him and by extension his company. He should be calling his lawyer, his board of investors, his most trusted employees, and letting them know what to expect over the next few days. But instead he was preoccupied to the point of distraction with thoughts of Judy, out in that storm, in Tundratown, searching for her partner and possibly Marty, though the idea of _that_ was still so ridiculous Ben could hardly credit it.

He turned back to the window. Rain was a rippling sheet against the glass, giving the view of the city beyond a distorted, half-melted appearance. Only a handful of buildings still had electricity. They glowed in flickering bunches like fairy lanterns. Emergency vehicles weaved through the streets, red strobe lights reflecting off the flooded roadways like pulsing arteries.

Maybe he should have offered to help Judy, as a show of cooperation if nothing else. That way if a journalist asked, he could honestly say he was doing everything in his power to help the police. But he hadn't exactly been thinking clearly at the time. Judy had been in such a rush, and he had been feeling so upset and wrong-footed, he had barely caught her warning for him not to go anywhere before she had gone.

He turned away from the window. What was he so worried about? Judy was a smart and capable officer. She would have her own resources, and she knew her limits. Even if her partner was missing, she knew better than to endanger herself recklessly, didn't she?

There was a knock at the door. Squaring his shoulders, Ben called out permission for them to enter.

It was Arnie. "That bunny is back. Sir." It was said like a complaint.

So soon? Ben nodded. "Show them up," he said.

So this was it. Judy had finished her mission and returned to fulfill her promise of hauling him down to the ZPD. At least she had made it back okay. He hoped she remembered her promise to take him in discreetly.

Grabbing his suit jacket from off the back of his chair, Ben slipped it on and checked his tie in the small mirror behind his desk. Jail or no, he would not be taken in looking sloppy.

He started to take a seat behind his desk, but felt none of the usual power from the spot that he normally did. Instead, he moved to the set of meeting chairs. Humble. Equal. If she _had_ brought reporters, it would make a better impression.

The door opened and Arnie waved the bunny in with an impatient hand. Ben had the fleeting thought that he was going to have to have another talk with the old armadillo about how to treat guests, but then he registered who had entered and forgot all about his rude employee. Because the bunny before him wasn't Judy.

It was Marty.

The bunny smiled at him, a strained, closed-lipped thing that didn't reach his eyes. Arnie closed the door with a snap behind him.

"Marty?"

"It's good to see you, friend." The bunny crossed the room and took a seat in the chair opposite. "Holding up under the storm all right?"

Ben could only stare at him dumbly.

Marty waved a paw. "I know. A stupid worry, right? As if a little bad weather could take down the mighty Cottontail Corporation. Not even the power dares to go out here."

"Generators," managed Ben.

Marty cocked his head at him. "Are you all right? You look a little…"

"Forgive me," said Ben. "I just didn't expect… what brings you here?"

"I came to return your truck," said Marty. "Well. Came to tell you where you can _pick up_ your truck. The weather was a little too fierce for me to risk driving it over. But don't worry. I parked it somewhere safe and you should have no trouble retrieving it once the storm has tired itself out." He handed Ben a folded piece of paper. “Here’s the address.”

Ben took it with a clumsy paw, still feeling the surreality of the situation. What was going on? Had Marty spoke to Judy already? And if he had, then where was she? Why hadn't she come back yet?

He realized Marty was still waiting for some sort of response from him. A small frown had appeared between his heavy brow. Ben cleared his throat and struggled to focus on the conversation. "I appreciate the gesture. But why the sudden rush to return it? The truck, I mean. You could have waited until tomorrow, at least."

Marty looked down at his clasped paws. "Well, there's no point beating around the bush about it. And you deserve to know. You see... I have to get away for a little while."

"Get away?"

Marty nodded without looking up. "Until all this with Marian is over with. I'm not going to lie, it's been tough. Really tough. Unable to do anything but sit around and wait for news. And the news I _do_ hear just keeps getting worse and worse. And everywhere I go, all I see is her. I can't stand it. I've got to get away. Until it's all over with, either way."

He wrung his paws together, looking for all the world like he might suddenly burst into tears, and Ben thought, _Judy has it wrong_. Marty loved Marian, as foolish as he was for it. He would never be involved like Judy was suspecting. _Ben_ was more guilty than his friend was.

"I'm sorry," said Ben. "I've been so busy being concerned with how it's all been affecting me, I haven't really thought about how it must be for you. But you shouldn't give up hope. The Corsacs might still be alive, you know. The police might yet save them."

Marty peeked up at him from under his lashes. "I wish I had your optimism, friend. But as for myself, I just can't go on this way, waiting and hoping they'll find something. You'll call me, won't you? If you hear news?"

"Of course," said Ben. "But I still don't understand why you felt the need to come over during this awful weather. Surely you could have called about the truck, or texted me directions."

Marty's expression turned embarrassed. "Of course you'd notice that. In all honesty, there was another reason I came all the way down here. The truck was just an excuse. Besides wanting to say goodbye to you in person, I was hoping for one last favor, though I should be too ashamed to ask for it."

"Whatever you need," said Ben.

"Actually, I was hoping for a loan. For my trip."

"You spent all the money I gave you already?" BenBen knew his tone was reproving, but it had been no small amount he had given his friend in repayment for his help all those years ago.

Marty winced. "I know. It's awful of me. But while I'm being honest, I might as well admit that I used that money to cover all of Grandpa Gregor's debts. I didn't want to worry you with this, but he hasn't been well these past couple years. It took everything you gave me to finally pay off the last of his medical bills."

Ben immediately felt bad for his quick judgment. ”I had no idea."

"You had enough going on with your own mother. I didn't want to add to it," said Marty. "But now that I need to make a quick getaway, I find myself too short on funds to manage it."

"Of course I'll cover you," said Ben, rising and going over to his desk to retrieve his check book.

"Thank you," said Marty, and he seemed to be breathing easier now. He even managed a self-deprecating chuckle. "I feel so pathetic, asking you for more money so I can run away from my problems. I'm a terrible friend, aren't I?"

"Not at all," said Ben. "Everyone has their limits. The important thing is recognizing them so you can stop and react appropriately."

"Who knew moving to the country would make you so wise?” joked Marty. He rose as well. "And I _will_ pay you back, whether you want me to or not."

Ben just smiled. He tossed down the folded directions so he could grab a pen. "Would two grand tide you over?"

"More than," said Marty.

Ben paused. "I should tell you the police stopped by here earlier. Officer Judy Hopps. She was looking for you. You didn't happen to run into her, did you?"

Marty looked up from the checkbook in surprise. "No. For me? Why?"

Ben made a dismissive gesture. "She had this crazy theory… But still, probably best if you clear things up with her before you leave."

"Yeah. I'll do that," said Marty.

Ben flipped open his checkbook. The draft caught the folded paper and sent it fluttering towards the edge of the desk. Ben snatched it up.

"Nice reflexes," said Marty. "So did Officer Hopps tell you what this crazy theory of hers was, by any chance?" He added quickly, “If it could help us find Marian, I would be willing to do anything."

"Actually, it was—" Ben glanced down at the paper. He stopped.

"Was, what?" asked Marty. At the other bunny's continued silence, he raised an eyebrow. "What's the matter? Is my handwriting too messy? Can you not read it?"

"No, that's not… This is in Tundratown," said Ben.

"Yeah. I was helping a friend there move."

"What friend?"

Marty laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. "Is that supposed to be a slam on my social life? I thought you were past those kinds of mean jokes. I _do_ have other friends besides you, you know."

"I didn't—sorry. I didn't mean it like that." Refolding the paper, Ben set it aside and picked his pen back up. "How much did I say again?"

"Two thousand," said Marty.

"Right." Ben bent to write it. "You know, Officer Hopps said she would be back after she took care of some things. If you want to see her before you go, your best bet is to wait for her here."

"That's okay," said Marty. "I don't want to take up any more of your time. "I'll just stop by the station on my way."

"It's really no problem," said Ben. "I have nothing else planned for the day, and it would ease my mind to know you weren't out in this storm any longer than you had to be. It's dangerous, you know."

"Always so thoughtful," said Marty. "No one would ever guess what a bully you were as a teenager."

"I'm sorry?"

Marty held up his paws. "I kid, I kid. But seriously, you don't need to worry about me. I'll be fine."

Ben held out the check. Marty reached for it, but when he made to pull it away, Ben didn't let go. "I really think you should wait here."

Marty frowned. "Why are you being like this?"

"I'm not—" started Ben, but then had to stop when he realized how close to stuttering he was. "I'm just trying to help you. As a friend."

"Friend," echoed Marty.

"Yes."

"But friends don't suspect each other, do they?" asked Marty.

Ben's gaze snapped to his. "I—I don't know what you mean."

"Do you think I'm stupid, Peter?" Marty snatched the check from him. With his other paw, he drew a tranquilizer gun from his inside coat pocket."You might be good at putting on a front, but you're a terrible liar."

Ben raised his paws automatically. "Marty. What are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He raised the weapon. "As I told that fox officer earlier, I have horrible aim. but even I can't miss point blank."

Ben hadn't even properly registered the sound of the shot before he felt the sting of it in his chest. He fell backwards against the desk, slipping to the floor a smoothly as the rain slipped down the windows outside.

"Thanks for the check. _Friend_ ," said Marty.

* * *

"The direction changed."

Judy had to shout to be heard above the wind, which had gone from a howl to a steady roar as they traveled north. She held her phone over Officer Dill's shoulder so he could see the screen. He slowed. Behind them, the other officers followed suit.

She pointed to the flickering carrot. Twice in the past hour, it had blinked out entirely, and both times Judy had felt as if her heart were disappearing with it. But it had come back, and though the signal wasn't great, it was holding, which was all they needed.

"See? The GPS was showing Nick heading south, southeast. But now he's heading due east. Why would he change direction like that? Surely heading south would be the quickest way down?"

"Off the top of my head, I can think of three possibilities for it," said Officer Dill, studying the screen through the frost-covered casing. "One, your partner reached some sort of impasse and is trying to find a way around it."

Judy could see how that might happen. "Okay. That doesn't sound too bad."

"Two. He might have gotten turned about in the storm and doesn't realize it."

That was more concerning, though she knew how easily it might've happened. After all, if it weren't for Officer Dill and his own tracking equipment, she would never have found her way this far.

"And the third possibility?" Judy asked.

The goat hesitated. "His path has been logical so far. Even with this change in direction, your partner's route is staying fairly straight. There's been no sudden turns or zig-zagging or doubling back, which you would normally see if it were, well…" He trailed off.

"If it were what?" said Judy.

"Hypothermia," the officer admitted. "Disorientation like that is a symptom of advanced hypothermia. But as I said, it doesn't appear to be that, so I wouldn't worry too much."

He readjusted his own GPS and handed Judy back her phone. They started forward again. Judy couldn't look away from her screen. Now every blink forward the carrot took, she questioned. Did Nick seem to be drifting left here? Was that turn too sharp, too sudden? She couldn't tell. The icon wouldn't zoom in enough.

When she finally tore her eyes away from her own screen to glance at Officer Dill's, she noticed something else troubling.

"The route we're taking now..." she started. "It's not very direct, is it? Shouldn't we be heading farther east, the way Nick's going?"

"We can't," said the goat. "Right now we're still heading up the base of the range, but not much farther and it splits into two separate mountains. We don't want to wind up on the wrong side."

"But Nick's headed that way."

"Soon enough he'll have to turn back, and we'll intercept him when he does."

"And if he doesn't?"

"He'll have to," said Officer Dill. "Because right now there's nothing ahead of him but a straight drop into Tudratown's biggest frozen lake."

* * *

Nick no longer thought the Rainforest District was the worst district in Zootopia. No, that honor had shifted squarely to Tundratown

Tundratown took everything that was horrible about the Rainforest District—wet, messy, with hard to walk on surfaces—and then plunged the temperature down and added several layers of snow and ice. Just for fun.

He knew he was being ungrateful. Despite the terrible weather conditions, their way had been surprisingly clear. Sometimes they'd hit a patch of ice and the cart would slip and try to pull away from them. Or sometimes snow would pile up over the rails and they would have to stop and dig it out so they could pass—usually this happened at the bottom of steeper hills, or whenever the ground leveled out. But so far, they hadn't run into an impossible obstacle.

If there was one thing that was starting to give Nick pause, it was the steady increase in snowdrifts along the rail, and the slowly building but noticeable effort it took to keep the cart in motion, which until recently hadn't been a problem. It might just be fatigue catching up to them, but he had to wonder if it wasn't something else. Something less noticeable but equally troubling.

"Does the way s-seem a little… flat, to you?" he asked Robin.

Robin took a shuddering breath in and shook his head. Or maybe he was just shivering. Out in the elements, they were both rapidly catching up to the Corsacs in terms of frozenness. Neither could stop shivering or stuttering now, and Nick had half-jokingly told Marian to prepare herself in case they got so bad that she was forced to get out and push them instead.

"C-can't say," said Robin. "But it m-makes sense for whoever built this rail to take the easiest, quickest way down, doesn't it?"

"Easy and quick are not always the same," Nick pointed out.

Robin was undaunted. "We are still lower down than we were. Which means we're c-closer to town and rescue."

Nick had several arguments for that. But he thought Robin probably knew them already and was just ignoring them, so he let the fox keep the point, along with his optimism.

From under the tarp came a sudden, furious rustling. Nick looked at Robin and Reynard. The younger fox was still gamely pushing, though he seemed to be leaning against the vehicle and letting his weight do most of the work instead of actively shoving the cart forward. By silent agreement they brought the cart to a stop.

Robin lifted the tarp, trying to keep the worst of the snow and wind from slipping under. Marian was struggling to hold on to a thrashing Todd, who seemed to be trying to get out of his coat, of all things.

"I c-can't get him to keep it on!" cried Marian. "He keeps saying he's hot. That can't be possible, c-can it?"

Reynard reached into to catch Todd by the arm. "Hey, buddy. You have to keep the coat on, okay?"

" _Hot_." The word was punctuated with a pained whine. He shoved at Marian, catching her in the chin, and she fell back with a yelp. Yanking down the zipper of his coat in one harsh motion, he lunged for the side of the cart, making the whole thing rock on its wheels. Nick cursed and clung to the vehicle while Robin caught the kit before he could make it onto the snow. He shoved him back and looked at Reynard. "You'll need to hold him."

Reynard climbed in with wobbly limbs. He sat and grabbed Todd, pulling him into his lap and wrapping his arms around him. Todd yelped and squirmed, but his older brother held strong.

"Marian, are you okay?" asked Robin.

Marian nodded, wide eyes locked on Todd.

They rearranged the tarp as best they could and continued on, but even the blizzard couldn't completely muffle the kit's cries.

Nick was hyper focused on the carrot he carried. He'd wrapped it in several layers of newspaper for added protection and then stuffed it into the only pocket he had with a zipper so he didn't have to worry about it falling out. He wished he had a way to tell if it was working. If Judy was looking for it. If it was even capable of carrying a signal at this elevation. He kept going back to their decision to leave the shed, and wondering if maybe they hadn't made the wrong choice. Maybe he should have convinced the Corsacs to stay. Maybe they would have lasted longer. Maybe help would have come in time, and now he had doomed them all. If this kit died because he had made a bad decision...

Robin pointed a shaky paw ahead of them. "Do you see that?"

Nick shook his head, disturbed by how long it took him to find his tongue. "I c-can't see anything."

"Exactly."

"N-not the time for riddles, Swift."

Robin stopped pushing; so did Nick. After reassuring the Corsacs that they'd be right back, Nick followed Robin around the vehicle and farther down the track.

Nick didn't think it was possible to feel any colder, but stepping out from the shelter of the cart, he realized that wasn't true. The snow had gained weight and wetness as they'd been traveling, and the wind, as if spotting the opportunity, blasted them with all it had. The snow stuck to their clothes and exposed fur, sinking in and freezing to them. Was the change because they were lower down? Was the storm weakening, or worsening?

Robin grabbed Nick's shoulder, halting him. "S-see it now?" he asked.

Nick still saw nothing. But then his frozen brain finally caught up and he realized that was the point. Ten feet ahead of them, the ground ended, dropping off into a gray nothingness concealed by mist-filled wind and swirling snow. But the rail continued, stretching out into the empty space until it too was swallowed up by the storm.

"Bridge?" guessed Robin.

Nick stepped forward carefully. There was nothing to it besides the track. It was just the rails and crossties. No safety barrier. No side path in case they broke down and needed to walk it. Nothing.

"It could t-take us across," said Robin.

"Or it could send us plummeting to our deaths," said Nick.

"Very negative."

Nick ground his teeth. "W-well it matches my temperature. Come on."

They returned to the cart and Robin filled in the Corsacs. The silence that followed his announcement was a heavy one. Nick could see their hopes falling as surely as if they had pushed them over the side of the cliff.

But the fact of the matter was—they had no choice. They couldn't go back. Nick and Robin didn't have the strength to push the cart back, uphill, against the storm. They were already weakening, the cold wearing them down at an accelerating rate.

"Could we w-walk it?" asked Reynard.

Impossible. Todd was uncontrollable now, Marian wouldn't make it more than a few yards, and Reynard couldn't keep himself up without support. Even if Robin and Nick somehow managed to carry three foxes between them, they wouldn't get far. Off the rails, the snow was deep. They'd have no path, no way to ensure they were going in the right direction. And then there were other dangers, like hidden fissures and avalanches.

But Nick didn't have the breath to explain all that to him, so he just jerked his head in silent denial.

"Well," said Robin. "No point waiting around, I guess."

_You made a stupid choice_ , thought Nick. _You've killed them all, and yourself._ _Judy is going to write DUMB FOX on your tombstone, and you'll completely deserve it._

Slowly, Nick and Robin began pushing the cart forward. Nick knew when they had reached the bridge because the deep rumble of the cart beneath their feet turned into a hollow sort of vibration that made their frozen bones ache. The ground dropped away, and then it was just the cart balanced precariously on the rails, with Nick and Robin carefully picking their way along the crossties. But the structure held, and after a few heart-pounding moments, Nick began to think they might not plummet to their deaths after all.

However, the going was anything but smooth. The bridge was bumpy with rust, making the cart bounce and jerk as if they were pushing it over a layer of gravel. The only thing that kept it moving was the slick layer of ice that covered the rails. It kept their vehicle from getting stuck completely, but also made walking that much more treacherous.

Nick tried not to look down, but it was hard when he had to watch his steps so closely. Far, far below them, he could just make out the dark expanse of some body of water, intercut with jagged lines of ice were it had frozen, cracked open, then frozen again. From this height, it looked like an enormous slab of blue marble dusted with snow. Nick would have found it breathtaking if he hadn't been currently defying gravity in order to cross it.

Halfway across, the wind kicked up, not from the north this time, but from under the bridge like a geyser made of air. Nick and Robin braced as the cart rattled on its rails. The wind whooshed beneath the tarp, catching it from below and sending it snapping upwards. The plastic sheet was ripped from the Corsac's numb paws and exploded into the sky like the remnants of a popped balloon. Every head shot up in surprise. Every head but Todd's, who used the moment of distraction to make a break for it.

He lunged for the side, either oblivious or uncaring of the drop that awaited him beyond. His siblings both made desperate grabs for him. Reynard caught him by the hood of his jacket, Marian by his arm, but his momentum sent the three of them crashing into the side of the cart, and it lurched sideways with cracking groan. Nick felt the vehicle lift off its wheels. It tipped sideways with horrific slowness, and he threw himself against the opposite side along with Robing in a rush to counterbalance it. At the same time, Marian and Reynard yanked Todd back. The three foxes fell heavily into the bottom of the vehicle, slamming it back down onto the track with a bone-jarring jolt.

Metal screeched. Beneath his feet, Nick felt the bridge give, bending under the weight of the cart and sending it shooting forward. The vehicle was yanked from his and Robin's paws, unbalancing them. Robin shouted as his foot came down wrong between the crossties. He toppled forward towards the edge, and Nick lunged for him, slipping across the icy rails as he struggled for traction. His paw came down on the back of the other fox's neck, and with no time to think he grabbed a fistful of fur and yanked. The sudden jerk made Nick lose his grip, and as Robin was thrown backwards onto the track Nick was pitched forward, arms pinwheeling for purchase that wasn't there to be found.

He felt the moment when gravity caught him. The world tipped sideways at an impossible degree and his stomach swooped. Sky replaced rails beneath his feet. And then he was falling, the bridge a fast-retreating strip of metal above him—and below, a beautiful sheet of blue marble rushing up to greet him.


	14. Chapter 14

Whoever said falling onto snow was like falling onto a cloud was a dirty liar. Falling onto snow _hurt_. It was also probably the only thing that kept Nick from breaking his back when he slammed into the mountainside.

His flailing cartwheel through the air turned into a tumbling roll down the slope of the cliff, chunks of loose snow and rock cascading around him as he went. His attempts to grab onto something to slow his descent were in vain, leaving him with nothing but stinging paws and a wrenched shoulder for his efforts. Sharp pebbles pinged off his face and arms before spiraling off into space, and Nick had a terrifying vision of his battered form hitting the mountainside at just the right angleand flying off into nothing, never to be found.

And then all at once, the slope flattened out. Nick came to a skidding stop, half buried in the snow and other detritus. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, every muscle in his body tensed as he waited for another drop to take him at any second. But a minute passed, then two, and still the surface he clung to remained solid.

He lay there a few moments more, trying to figure out if any of the numb parts of his body were now also broken. But he concluded, after a cautious wiggling of digits and flexing of muscles, that everything seemed to be intact and in working order, if not quite as responsive as he would've liked.

Only then did he chance rising. He brushed dirty snow off his clothes and fur as he took in his surroundings. He appeared to have landed on an outcropping that jutted out from the side of the mountain. Not a tail's length behind him the ledge ended. The lake was a dark stretch of broken ice below, popping and cracking as it shifted, the sound sharp as gunshots. That he might have continued rolling right over the side and down into that jagged icy blackness with nothing to stop him made Nick feel light-headed, and he moved farther away from the edge.

He looked up at the cliffside. A dark streak where the snow had been disturbed made it easy to track his descent. Above it, he could just make out the bridge, maybe fifty feet above him, half-concealed by the falling snow and perfectly blending into the gray skies. If not for the russet dot that was Robin's head peering down at him from over the side, he might have missed it entirely.

"—All right?" Robin's voice reached him on an echo, and Nick eyed the snowy cliff stretching above him warily. If there was an avalanche he would be swept away faster than you could say _fox pawpsicle_. Luckily, the snow was wet and the winds strong. Most of it had frozen into ice on impact. Even Nick smashing full-body down the mountainside hadn't done much more than leave a dent in its surface.

"Wilde?" Robin's voice reverberated with anxiety. "You okay?”

"Been better," Nick shouted back. "You?"

He strained to hear Robin's response over the howling wind. He caught, “My ankle,” and, “will live."

"The others?" he asked.

"Fine. But the cart…"

Nick's stomach dropped.

"M-must have bent the track or something when it—" The words cut off. The wind or Robin, Nick couldn't tell. The words _stuck_ and _can’t move it_ echoed down a moment later.

Wonderful.

"Can you climb back up?" Robin asked.

Nick considered the cliff face. The incline looked steep but not impossible. With a little luck and careful stepping…

He reached up, digging numb paws into the icy surface, looking for a clawhold. After a moment, he managed to find one.

Before he could second guess the wisdom of it, Nick started climbing. He tried to stay within the path made by his fall, where there was less snow and therefore less chance of it all coming loose and crashing down on top of him.

He made it three feet up. Then five. Then seven. It was laborious going. He could barely feel to grip, and all the while the storm raged around him, plucking and pushing at him, blinding him with sleet. Ten feet up. Fifteen. Nick's arms started to burn, his legs turning to rubber as exhaustion overtook him. He stopped checking how far up he was. The answer was always the same: not far enough. And every time he looked and did the math—how tired he was compared with how far he had left—he didn't like the results he came up with.

He tried not to think about all the problems that awaited him once he reached the top. Robin, injured. The tarp that had been sheltering the Corsacs, gone. And the cart no longer useable. Where did that leave them?

In deep trouble, that was where.

Nick reached up for another clawhold, brushing his paw over the stone as he searched it out by touch. But the area was smooth, not a single dint or jut of rock to grab onto. He squinted up through the slicing wind, trying to see. But the stretch of cliff above him slanted at a much steeper angle, and had been worn flat by stronger winds and time. There was nothing but a sheer, icy face.

Nick craned his neck back, trying to locate the bridge. He had to look farther up than he would've liked. He wasn't more than halfway up. He could just make out Robin, watching. The fox was almost behind him now, the climb taking Nick away from the others and back to where the mountain ended and the bridge began. But that was a minor problem; the lack of places to climb was a bigger one. Already Nick could feel his strength waning as he clung there, desperately struggling to come up with an answer that just wasn't there.

With one paw he clawed at the stone, trying to force it to give. If he could just carve out enough of a niche to grip with… But the stone was too hard, too frozen, and Nick too weak and numb to have any effect.

"Wilde?" Robin’s worried voice carried on the wind. Nick ground his teeth. Those foxes were relying on him. Robin, Marian, Reynard and Todd. They had followed him out here into this blizzard because they had trusted his judgment. And now they were stranded on the tracks, and Nick was stuck down here like a cat stuck in a tree. Ridiculous. _Useless_. And Judy…

He clawed harder. In the back of his mind, he knew it wasn't a rational action. Even if he managed to dig out a clawhold or two, there was no way he would be able to manage the other twenty, thirty, _fifty_ that it would take to get him to the top.

He raked his paw over the ice. The tip of his claw got caught in a tiny fissure and stuck there. Nick yanked his arm back. His claw snapped. Nick was too out of breath to do more than gasp at the pain of it Blood welled. Nick watched it freeze before his eyes, a dark bead of pain on the tip of his claw.

Something inside of Nick cracked.

With a howle, he pounded his fist against the rock. It wasn't a particularly hard punch, but it was enough to send a jolt through his body and the surrounding rock. It dislodged him from his precarious perch, sending him half-falling, half-sliding back down the mountainside. He scrabbled to grab on to anything that might halt his descent, but in the end he didn't come to a stop until his toes hit the flat of the outcropping he had started out on.

Nick scrambled up only to have his legs crumple beneath him as the last drops of his energy evaporated. He collapsed back, panting and shaky and with a sick feeling of the inevitable sinking into his gut.

He wasn't getting back up that mountain. Not without help they didn't have, using time they couldn't spare. Already the odds were stacked against them, possibly too high to overcome.

The bridge was an impossible highwire above him. Robin's blurry face was still there, watching. Nick could faintly hear the fox calling to him, but between the howling of the wind and the ringing in his ears, he couldn't make out the words.

He lay there, catching his breath as the cold numbed away the burn from his muscles and the sting from the scrapes he'd sustained during the fall. What were they going to do now? What was possibly left to try?

Of all things, that stupid Gazelle song popped into his head, along with an image of Judy hopping in time to the beat, nudging him with a playful bump of her hip, trying to get him to join in. But no amount of prompting could make an impossible situation possible.

What was he supposed to do now?

"Wilde? You okay down there?"

Nick unzipped his jacket pocket. He pulled out the carrot tracker in its wad of newspaper. Layer by layer, he unwrapped it, like plucking the petals off a flower. The wind snatched away each crinkled page he released, until all that remained was the tracker. The orange bit of plastic felt almost warm where he cupped it in his paw, and he wondered distantly if it was a sign that it was still functioning or more a testament to how much body heat he'd lost.

He turned the tracker over, taking in the excess glue at the top and the small chip in the side where Judy must have slipped with the razor while cutting into it. It really did look just like her carrot pen, both in size and weight, and he wondered what message he might’ve been tempted to record, if it had been.

_"Carrots… No, Judy. I have to tell you something."_

"Wilde?” Robin’s voice sounded panicked now. “Are you okay?"

_"I've been thinking it for a long time. But to me, you are…"_

"Nick? Answer me, d-darn you!"

_"You're a terrible actor, Carrots. I'm sorry, but it had to be said. If this police thing ever falls through, please think of another fallback career, for all our sakes."_

"Nick!"

_"Well… duty calls."_

With great effort, Nick rose, brushing off the snow that had already made decent headway in burying him, and looked at Robin.

He shouted up, "How good are you at catching?"

A pause, and then Robin's answer echoed down. "Very good."

 _Of course you are_.

Grip tightening around the carrot, Nick yelled, "Then catch!"

He waited a beat for Robin to prepare for it, then he lobbed the tracker straight up. He watched it fly, a speck of orange cutting through the wind and snow like a tacky piece of shrapnel until a dark paw shot out, snatching it out of the air.

Nick stood there, shivering, ankle deep in snow as he waited for Robin to process what he was telling him. He knew what the fox's decision would be, because he would've made the same if their positions had been reversed and it had been Judy freezing to death before his eyes.

Finally, Robin's voice echoed down to him. "Where do we go?"

"South," said Nick. "If you find shelter, s-stay there. Otherwise, just go as far as you can." It was all they could do.

"But Marian and Todd, and Reynard… how will I—"

"However you have to." Impending death was a great motivator.

More silence. When Robin spoke again, his tone was serious in a way Nick had never heard it before. "I promise I'll send someone back for you."

Nick tried not to think of all the qualifiers that came with that. _If_ they made it down the mountain. _If_ someone found them in time. _If_ they were lucid enough to give accurate directions. _If_ the storm allowed for a search party. _If, if, if…_

"I w-would greatly appreciate it that,” was all Nick said.

That furry red head ducked away. And despite knowing it was coming, Nick had to stop himself from trying to claw his way back up the cliff after him, physics be damned. There was a fizzing kind of pressure building inside his chest. His fight or flight response screaming at him to _do_ something before it was too late. Before Robin left him there, taking his best chance of rescue with him.

Nick pressed his paws flat against the stone and bowed his head, willing reason to return—or, barring that, a little dignity. He would _not_ kill himself trying to follow. He would _not_ break down and beg Robin to stay. He would give the foxes this chance and hope it was enough.

He stayed like that, pressed against the cliff until all sounds of Robin and the Corsacs had faded, until he knew that even if he broke down and yelled for them to come back that they wouldn't hear. Only then did he trust himself to move away. He shuffled through the snow, looking for the most sheltered spot he could find on his little ledge.

Eventually, he settled for wedging himself into a corner made from a boulder and one of the bridge's support beams. It was still freezing, but it was out of the wind and had a manageable amount of snow. At the very least, he wouldn't have to worry about being buried alive if he passed out.

He curled up there, wrapping his tail around himself, and summoned up the warmest daydream he could think of. No dancing, not this time. Instead, he thought back to that moment in the cruiser when Judy had been soft and happy in his arms, and he had been free to hold her as close as he wished. And this time no one pushed away or ruined the moment. It was just her and him. And Nick was warm.

* * *

Marty tore down the long hallway that connected Cottontail's business tower with his factory, checking over his shoulder with every other step. But no one had seen him and no one appeared, and he was feeling pretty good, all things considered. The check was tucked safely in his pocket and though he would have to cash it quickly before Peter came to and put a freeze on the account, Marty was optimistic that his plans would still hold. He might have just moved up on the suspect list, but as long as he made it out of Zootopia in time, it wouldn't matter. Peter wasn't the only one who knew how to disappear successfully.

Marty could do it, too.

Checking off wall sconces, he stopped when he came to one with a chip in it. Fortunately for him, Peter's extravagance only extended to where society could see. Otherwise the business bunny might have replaced the light, and that would have _really_ ruined Marty's plans.

A few scratches here and there and the wallpaper fell away, revealing a pressed wall of soil perfect for burrowing. Despite all of Peter's outward changes, he was still a bunny at heart, and all bunny's needed their emergency escapes.

Marty was more than happy to take advantage of that.

He started digging.

* * *

Cold.

Dark.

Pain.

The fox wasn't sure in which order he first registered these three things, but once he did he found it was all he could focus on. He kept turning them over in his mind like a bad hand of cards he couldn't get rid of. Cold, dark, pain. All of them unwelcome sensations to what had otherwise been until now a peaceful unconsciousness.

He tried ignore them. That seemed the easiest way. But time passed and still they remained, continuous and uncomfortable, and eventually the fox became bothered enough by this trio of annoyances to wonder about them, if only so he could figure out how to make them go away.

His head hurt. That was where the pain was coming from. And there was a chill in the air that he didn't care for, and he thought his eyes might be closed, but he couldn't find the strength to open them.

This led to other unwanted realizations. For one, he was lying down. And there was a steady beeping near his ear that was _almost_ as irritating as the pain and the cold. And there were voices speaking. Distant, tinny voices that fluctuated between serious and chipper with all the insincerity of a news report.

The thought of the news sent a tickle of memory through his battered head. The beeping increased in speed. Now the sound _was_ as irritating as the pain and the cold.

And yet shortly after thinking that, he nodded off again. Well, passed out might have been more accurate. But he welcomed it all the same. If it took him away from the irritants that wouldn't leave him alone…

For while, it seemed he had escaped it after all. But gradually he drifted back, like an incoming tide that couldn't stay out, and his mind circled back to the same three thoughts—cold, dark, pain—and the feeling of having been over this before, several times.

But this time, he found himself able to remedy one.

He cracked open his eyes.

He was greeted by a heavily shadowed room. The only light came from the doorway, which led into a painfully bright hall, white and shiny and echoing with voices. A rhino police officer sat in a too-small chair facing the doorway, his arms crossed and his great chin resting against his chest as he dozed. The fox didn't recognize him, but the sight gave him the same uneasy feeling as the news report he'd overheard earlier.

The beeping was still there. Faster now. The fox tried to shift, either to get away from it or make it stop, but his body felt weighed down, and even tipping his head sent pain lancing through it.

He cried out. The rhino officer startled from his chair just as two nurses—a lamb and a ring-tailed lemur—came rushing passed him and into the room, a bear doctor hot on their heels. The overhead lights snapped on, and for a minute the fox was blinded.

Paws prodded him. His lids were peeled back and a penlight was shined into his eyes. Someone turned off the beeping noise. The fox was grateful for that, at least.

Questions were tossed at him. Was he in any pain? Did he know where he was? Did he remember his name? His date of birth?

"My head hurts," he told them. "And I… I'm at the hospital? My name is Craven Corsac. I—" He glanced over at the rhino officer, who had risen from his chair and now stood in the doorway, watching the proceedings with a hard gaze, and Craven's breath hitched as his mind raced ahead of him, filling in the questions they hadn't yet asked and supplying more of his own.

"My family. Is my family here? Are they hurt? Have they been arrested?"

"Please relax, Mr. Corsac," said the doctor.

"Are they alive? Can't you at least tell me that?"

The nurses exchanged looks and didn't answer. The doctor scribbled something down on his notebook, tore off the top page and handed it to the lemur. "Take another blood sample. Then send him down for a CT scan and a MRI."

"Yes, doctor."

The lamb reached for the PICC in Craven's arm. He covered it with a paw.

"Why won't you tell me if they're okay?" he cried.

"Because they can't." This came from the rhino officer. "They don't know anything besides the fact that your criminal siblings are still on the run. So unless you have something you'd like to share—"

"I do!" Craven made the mistake of trying to sit up, and hissed and grabbed at his head. The lemur stilled him with a paw to the shoulder. "It was Marty! That jackrabbit tricked us. He made us think—"

The rhino held up a hand. “Are we talking about a bunny here?"

"Yes," said Craven.

"A bunny made your family break into a factory and beat up an elderly armadillo? _And_ kidnap an officer? _And_ flood a tunnel?"

"Yes! I mean… no. It's complicated.”

"Oh, I'm sure a lot of things are complicated for you right now," said the officer. “That’s why, I would suggest you keep your trap shut until you get your story straight. You may be a patient, but you're still a wanted felon. I _will_ be reporting everything that happens here during your stay to the ZPD, and that includes lying to an officer."

"I wasn’t—“ tried Craven, but he didn't know how to explain, and the rhino was already returning to his chair in the hall. He gave Craven a warning look and Craven forced himself to relax back.

The lamb nurse was pulling up the railings on his rollaway bed, getting ready to take him down for testing.

"Do you really not know?" whispered Craven. "About my family?"

"I'm sorry," said the lamb, and she looked like she meant it.

Cold. Dark. Pain. Craven was started to regret having left them.

* * *

"There's been an incident at the Cottontail Factory." Officer Eisbaer had to shout to be heard above the wind.

"Did they give any specifics?" officer Dill shouted back.

"No. But Hopps was requested specifically."

"Well they'll have to wait. How much farther?"

This last was directed at Judy. She looked up from her phone. "Straight ahead. Quarter mile."

They slowed their vehicles. Judy was torn between watching her phone screen and trying to make out Nick through all the falling snow. She'd had a moment of panic a while ago when the tracker showed him backtracking west. But then he had taken a sharp turn south, straight towards them, and hadn't veered since. That had to be a good sign, right?

The wolves let out simultaneous howls and sped ahead. Officer Eisbaer said, "I've got a visual."

A shape appeared out of the storm, fox height, with dark red fur speckled with snow, and Judy's heart leapt. He was hunched over and lumbering his way forward one dragging step at a time. In his arms was a heavily bundled object nearly as big as he was.

"Nick!" Judy shouted, and the fox's head shot up. Their eyes met, and Judy froze halfway out of her seat.

_Robin Swift?_

His shoulders slumped in relief. The bundle in his arms began to wriggle, and Todd Corsac peaked out from under his strange layers of swaddling.

Two more figures shuffled into view behind Robin, leaving heavily against each other. Marian and Reynard Corsac. At the sight of the officers, Marian let out a strangled sob and fell to her knees, taking Reynard down with her. Robin crouched beside them, talking to them, but not even Judy could pick up his words over all the wind.

The Tundratown Police didn't miss a beat. The wolves were off their vehicles and bounding through the snow faster than Judy could dismount. They scooped up the foxes and ran with them over to Officer Eisbaer, who threw open the back door of her vehicle's trailer to reveal what looked like a mini ambulance. Judy could feel the warmth from the heater blasting from where she stood. Medical supplies and equipment were hooked to the walls. The wolves cracked heating packets while Officer Eisbaer started taking medical readings.

Judy cast her gaze back into the storm, waiting. Surely any minute Nick would appear… But the seconds passed no fifth fox arrived.

Judy looked down at her phone. The tracker said she should be right on top of him.

She looked back at the foxes, something sharp and heavy cutting into her heart.

She bounded through the snow to the trailer. Robin was the only one who hadn’t been treated yet. Marian, Todd, and Reynard had been stripped of their frozen, wet clothes and bundled into specially heated blankets. They lay like a row of furry burritos in one of the small cots. None of them stirred as Judy hopped up onto the bumper of the trailer.

Only Robin was still awake. He sat on the cot opposite the others. He had also been wrapped up in a layer of blankets. His head hung low and his eyes had a glazed, heavy look to them, as if exhaustion were becoming it’s own form of gravity. But he lifted his head as Judy appeared.

Before she could ask him anything, he reached into the bag that held his wet clothes and pulled out something small and brightly colored. He held it out to her. A terrifying numbness started in Judy’s lungs at the sight of the carrot tracker.

“What—”

“There was a bridge,” said Robin. His voice was rough. “We were trying to cross it. Nick fell, saving us. He told me to take this and go get help.”

Judy forced air into her lungs. “He told you? Does that mean he’s…?”

“He was still alive when we… left him,” said Robin. “He didn’t seem too hurt. If… if there had been more time I would have…”

Thank goodness. Thank goodness, thank goodness. Not even Robin’s careful phrasing could dampen Judy’s relief. Nick was still alive. There was still a chance. She could still save him.

“Where?” said Judy.

Robin’s gaze drifted towards the mountain. “North. Keep going until you hit rail tracks, then follow them east.”

“Thank you.” Judy jumped down back into the snow. Wet ice crunched beneath her feet.

“Judy?”

She turned back. Robin bowed his head. “I’m sorry.”

“You did the right thing,” Judy told him. “I’m glad you’re all okay.”

Officer Dill was still sitting on their vehicle when she returned.

“Where to?” he asked.

“Do you know of any rail tracks around here?”

The mountain goat stroked the straggly bit of beard that had escaped his scarf. “Like for a tram? I can’t say I do.”

Judy hopped up behind him. “Robin says there should be some north of here. Apparently they go right across that cliff you mentioned. Officer Wilde should be there.”

“Interesting. Let’s get up there then, shall we?”

Their pace felt painfully slow. Judy could feel time slipping away, but with the heavy snowfall, there was a very real risk of driving right over the tracks without seeing them. And if they missed the landmark then they’d never find Nick in time to save him.

“I see something ahead,” announced officer Dill. He brought the vehicle to a stop. There, half-buried in the snow, was a very old but still serviceable rail track.

They followed it east, just like Robin told them to. When the bridge came into view, Judy’s heart stuttered in her chest.

The foxes had tried to cross _that_?

She and officer Dill made their way carefully to the edge. Judy got as close as she dared and peeked over the side. Snow swirled down, and down, and down, all the way to a frozen lake far below, a deadly chop of freezing water and huge shards of ice.

“Anything?” asked officer Dill.

Judy shook her head. This couldn’t be right. Nick would never had survived such a fall, and he wouldn’t have been able to tell Robin anything. Had the fox lied to her? But no, that couldn’t be it. There had to be something else…

She crept closer to the edge. _There_. A ledge. Could someone survive a fall that far? Possibly. If they were a very, very lucky fox.

“Nick! Nicholas Wilde!” She strained to pick out any hint of that bright red fox fur, but all she saw was snow and ice and rock.

“Do you have any climbing gear?” Judy asked officer Dill.

“My dear, I am a mountain goat,” he said, as if her question were insulting. “Of course I do.”

There was no time for a repelling lesson. They settled for officer Dill tying a rope around Judy’s and lowering her down. Her light weight made it part easy, but the wind was brutal this high up and Judy found herself swinging with every gust. She kept her focus on the ledge and not the abyss beyond it.

Once she was down, she picked her way around the small outcropping. There wasn’t much to it. No fox-shaped form appeared to her. She tried to look for tracks, but if there had been any, the storm had swept them all away.

“Nick! Nicholas Wilde, answer me!”

Nothing.

Just in case, she chanced a look over the side of the ledge, just in case there was a second shelf hidden below. There wasn’t.

Grief clogged Judy's throat as realization sank in. Pain stabbed at her eyes, the tears that were welling up freezing before they could even fall.

Nick was gone.

* * *

Marty dug the tunnel from the factory back to his neighborhood in record time, surfacing in an empty lot behind his house. The storm had finally moved on. All that remained was a foggy drizzle and the soft rumblings of thunder from beyond Zootopia's city limits.

The streets were quiet. The clouds thin and rapid in their pace across the night sky. No one was about. A perk of living in a burrow. Most of the residents here tended to hunker down during emergencies and not reappear until they were sure the coast was clear. They wouldn't be out again until morning, at the earliest.

He hopped across the road and over the fence that separate his backyard from the street. The ground was soggy under his feet, the trees bowed low above him, water still dripping from the tips of their leaves. A flickering streetlight across the way told him the power was back, at least in this neighborhood, but most of the houses remained dark, including his.

When they had heard about the storm, Marty had sent Grandpa Gregor to stay with other relatives back at the family home with a promise that he would join them once he'd finished running some errands. So he didn't have to worry about being quiet as he let himself in through the back door and slipped into the kitchen.

Leaving off the light, he grabbed a fistful paper towels and wiped off the worst of the mud from his paws and feet. His grandfather was going to be upset enough when Marty never showed. The least his could do was avoid making the old bunny clean up after him too.

When he was done, he hurried into the living room and over to the small front closet where earlier he had stowed his duffel, already packed with supplies he would need as he made his way out of the city. There was a 24-hour bank at the tram station. He would stop off there to cash Peter's check, and then if he hurried he could make it out on the last tram of the evening. Then it would be finished. Justice served, and him off to start a new life.

He grabbed his bag, then after thinking about it, added a jacket too, just in case. He wondered how the foxes were doing. Had they attempted to make a break for it? Or had they tried to tough it out and wait? Most of them must be gone by now, either way. Marian must be…

"Hello, Marty."

Marty startled and dropped the bag, whirling towards the soft voice. Someone stood next to the front window, half-hidden in the shadows. He must have walked right by them and not noticed. He couldn't make out their face, but the tall ears and slight rural accent gave them away.

"Officer Hopps." Marty slapped on his most innocent and clueless expression, fumbling to pick up his bag. "Why are you here, inside my house like this?” He let his voice rise hopefully. “Did you hear from Marian?”

The bunny officer sighed. "You can drop the act now, Marty."

He hadn't dug fast enough. Peter must have woken up and blabbed, and now Marty was going to have to finagle a way out of this. Why had he let that rotten business bunny live? He had just been in such a rush, and upset. If only he had killed Peter when he'd had the chance.

Marty hugged the bag to his chest, eyes wide and anxious. "Act?"

Through the window, a full but low hanging moon peaked out from behind the clouds, illuminating the bunny officer's face in a pale white glow. It made her look wane and tired.

"I know it was you, Marty. I know you were the one who made the Corsacs disappear. I came to ask you to turn yourself in."

Marty snorted. Letting his cowering facade drop, he straightened and tossed the bag aside, asking, "And why would I do that?"

Officer Hopps looked over at him, and that was when Marty realized it wasn't just the poor lighting that made her look exhausted. The cop must've had a heck of a day. Her ears were droopy, her shoulders slumped. She had her arms crossed in the standard "tough cop" pose, but she gripped her sleeves as if she feared she’d fly apart.

“You should do it for your own sake," said Judy. When Marty curled lips at that, she added, "And the courts will go easier on you if you do."

"Well, this is certainly a new way of policing. Begging a suspect to turn himself in. No wonder the ZPD seems so useless these days."

Judy just looked at him. Her whole dispirited demeanor pricked at him. The last time they'd spoken, she had been energetic, determined, upbeat. Annoying, really. But the Judy Hopps in front of him now looked broken. Had something happened?

Then it clicked. Marty slapped his hands together and laughed. "Ah. Lost track of your partner, have you?"

Her red-rimmed eyes widened. "How did you know?"

This was going to be easier than he'd hoped. "Because I spoke with him earlier. We had a real nice chat, him and I."

“So you admit you did something to him.”

"Me? Never," said Marty. "We conversed like gentlemen and then I… sent him on his way."

Outside, clouds slipped back over the moon, returning the room to shadows. Marty could hear the officer's ragged breathing from where he stood. He waited for her to collect herself.

"Turn yourself in," she said finally. "Admit to what you did to the Corsacs, _and_ to Nick. And if you do… I promise I'll do what I can to get you a reasonable sentence."

Marty let the silence stretch, just long enough to make her believe he was considering it. Then he said, "A nice offer. Now allow me to counter."

He pulled out his tranquilizer gun. The shiny surface was just visible in the dark. Officer Hopps went very still.

"Don't worry," said Marty. "I'm not going to shoot you."

He tossed the gun to her in an easy underhand throw. She caught it and eyed him. "What do you think you're doing right now?"

"Making you a deal," said Marty. "You want to save the foxes. I want to get away. This way we both have a chance to get what we want."

"And how is that?"

Marty gestured to the gun. "You shoot yourself—don't worry, it's just a harmless bit of tranquilizer. Then I'll drop you off where the others are and be on my way." He made a show of looking at the clock on the wall. "If you're lucky, you might even be able to still save one or two of them."

The officer flinched. Emotion twisted her features and for a minute Marty thought she would burst into tears right there.

But then she took a deep breath and her expression hardened. "I don't believe you," she told him.

"You think I don't care," said Marty. "That I can't empathize. But you're wrong. I know what it's like to care about someone so much you would do anything for them. I do. And I didn't want Officer Wilde to get hurt. I just needed him out of my way. I'd be more than happy to help you get him back, but you'll have to do it my way."

"By shooting myself."

"By ensuring that we both abide by the rules."

"You're the one who's hurting people and breaking laws."

Marty shrugged. "And yet…"

She looked at the gun in her paw dubiously.

"Look, you can take me in if you want to," said Marty. "We both know I can't stop you. But then I'll never tell you where the foxes are, and even if you figure it out by yourself you'll be far too late to save them. You might be too late already."

Her grip on the gun tightened.

"Think about it," cajoled Marty. "One escaped suspect for the lives of several foxes, including your precious partner. Sounds like a good deal to me. Unless… maybe he's not that precious to you, after all."

He saw the dig strike home, as he'd known it would. It was obvious the bunny cared more than she ought to for that dumb partner of hers. Marty knew the signs all too well, and he pitied her for it. What he was doing for her now was a mercy, really. At least this way she would never have to go though the disillusionment and heartbreak like he had been forced to endure.

"It's not that I don't care," said Officer Hopps finally.

"Of course not," said Marty. "It was thoughtless of me to say so. Of course you would do anything for—"

"It's because this is stupid."

Marty stopped. He blinked. "I'm sorry?"

Then, from the shadows in the corner came an exasperated huffing. "You are never going to let this go, are you, Carrots?"

"No, I'm not," snapped Judy. "What you did was reckless, dangerous, dumb—"

A table lamp snapped on, and Marty stared as a heavily bundled, weary looking officer Wilde slouched back in Grandpa Gregor's favorite armchair. "In my defense—"

"Oh, _now_ you want to defend yourself? You were literally shooting yourself earlier, but _now_ —"

"Well what else was I supposed to do?" asked Wilde. "What would you have done?"

"Let's see… maybe, _anything_ else?"

"Genius!" the fox exclaimed. "Wish I had thought of that. Well, maybe next time."

Officer Hopps shot him a furious glare. "You're lucky there's even the _possibility_ of a next time. Especially considering you’ve now gone and topped off your stupidity by refusing medical treatment—"

Now it was officer Wilde's turn to scoff. "I wasn't about to let you take down this jerk alone."

Judy rolled her eyes. "Because you are _so_ much help right now, in the state you're in."

Nick jabbed a finger at the lamp. "I got the light."

"You're right. Thank you so much. However would I have managed that without you?"

"You know, I'm starting to dislike this sarcasm of yours. It's really annoying in a partner. You might want to work on it."

Officer Hopps let out a growl of frustration that would have sounded comical coming from a rabbit if she didn't look so furious. Marty, who up until this point had been caught off guard by their bickering, started edging backwards towards to door.

Nick saw him and said, "Hopps—"

But Judy had already raised the gun. She shot Marty in the leg and he collapsed with a yelp.

"Good thing you had a light," said Nick.

Judy made quick work handcuffing Marty while Nick pulled out a walkie and called it in. Then she rounded back on her partner. " _Now_ will you go to the hospital?"

"Gladly," said Nick. "I think my tail is starting to defrost and it is killing me. Who knew thawing out could be so painful?”

"You're lucky you still have feeling in it," said Judy. "Do you have pain anywhere else?"

"Only everywhere. Carry me?"

Judy dodged his outstretched paws. "There's an ambulance waiting around the corner. I'll call and tell them to bring the stretcher."

Nick made a face.

She pulled out her phone. As she did, something else fell out of her pocket and onto the floor.

The carrot tracker.

They both stared at it a minute. Then Judy scooped it up and stuffed it back into her pocket. Without looking at Nick, she said, "Actually, they're only a two minute walk down the road. You'll be okay for that long, won't you?"

"Carrots—"

"Be right back. Keep an eye on Marty, okay?" And she hopped over the bunny's unconscious form and out the door quicker than Nick could get out the words, "Judy, wait."

A second later she passed by the front window, one paw wiping at her eyes, and Nick flopped back against armchair he'd commandeered, thinking that escaping from a snow-packed mountain was starting to look like a cakewalk in comparison to earning forgiveness from his partner.

"Got any advice?" he asked the unconscious bunny.

All he got was a snore in answer.


	15. Chapter 15

"Need a refill?"

Finnick tossed the empty can he had just crushed into the bin at the foot of his lounge chair and peered over the roof of his van down at Nick, who hefted up a twelve pack and shook it invitingly. Drops of condensation flew, evaporating on contact with the sunbaked ground.

"Come on," wheedled Nick in a sing-song voice. "It's still cold."

Finnick sniffed and pushed his sunglasses higher up his nose, leaning back in his chair. "I've got a cooler."

Nick huffed. "I just spent the past thirty minutes trekking up here to bring this to you. The least you could do is invite me up."

Finnick rolled his eyes—a gesture that was lost with his sunglasses on—and waved a paw in admittance. Nick circled around to the back of the van and clambered the small metal ladder, hauling his drinks up with him. He shoved the pack next to Finnick then flopped down onto the empty lounge chair beside him, struggling to catch his breath.

Nearly freezing to death took a lot out of a fox, apparently. Even walking uphill was exhausting. The doctors said he had been lucky, considering, but that it would be a while before he regained his full stamina.

Nick looked out, taking in the view. Sandy Ridge was far too barren and poor of an area to ever be a popular day trip destination for the city's residents. But it did have one of the most spectacular views in Zootopia, if you liked desolate valleys and craggy rock faces.

"Don't get me wrong, I enjoy sunbathing as much as the next fox," said Nick. "But why couldn't you have done this at a lower altitude? The sun's just as bright here as it is in town."

"I like my privacy."

Nick's gaze slid over to the baseball bat tucked under his friend's chair. The sight of it was enough to temper his mood.

"Yeah," he said. "I know."

"Heard you got yourself into more trouble last week."

Nick snorted and reached for a drink. Shaking off the excess condensation, he popped the top and took a gulp. "It wasn't just me. And I don't remember the papers wording it quite that way. It was more like, _Fox: Officer and Hero!_ "

"The way I heard it, it was more like, _Fox: the Brave Idiot_."

Nick choked on his drink. "Where did you hear that?"

"That annoying bunny of yours stopped by here a little while ago."

"Carrots did?"

"Who do you think the second lawn chair was for? My imaginary friend?"

"I thought you were just missing me and anticipating a visit."

Finnick snorted.

"So Judy came to see you?" Nick smiled down at his drink. "She's always one step ahead of me, that rabbit."

He felt eyes on him and looked over. Behind his oversized sunglasses, Finnick's expression was somber.

"What?"

The smaller fox shook his head. "I just don't get you anymore.”

“What’s not to get?”

Finnick made a vague gesture with his paws. “We had the _life,_ Wilde! Minimal work for above average pay. Relatively safe, considering. And even amusing some days, when animals left us alone and you weren't trying so hard to act clever."

"I am clever," mumbled Nick.

"But now you're running around with a fancy uniform and badge, risking your neck for citizens who either don’t like you or don’t trust you, or both.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Nick admitted. “Some days I go to work and… it almost feels like I'm doing another con, yo know? Only I'm not sure what the take is, or who exactly I'm conning…”

"Then why do you keep doing it?"

"Because,” said Nick, “and this is the crazy thing—it actually makes me _happy_.”

"Does the job make you happy or does _she_ make you happy?"

Nick flinched at the question, but answered honestly, “Both.”

"It's not going to end well. You know that, right?"

Nick snapped the tab off the top of his drink can and didn't answer.

Finnick shook his head, either in disgust or pity, and snatched up his own drink.

Nick leaned back in his chair, brushing chip crumbs off the arm rest. Empty snack bags lay crumpled around them. A cooler over to the side still held drinks, including a couple bottles of hard carrot juice. A small plastic tub had been flipped over and the remains of a card game were scattered atop it.

"Did Carrots bring all this?" Nick asked.

Finnick grunted an affirmative. "She was here all morning. And talked the entire time."

Nick smiled at his friend’s grouchy tone. “You know you had fun.”

“All she talked about was you. Half the time I could tell if she was complaining about you you bragging.”

“The latter, I’m sure.”

“She apologized too.” Finnick said it like she had asked him from some embarrassing favor. “Your bunny sure does like to makes things awkward.”

_My bunny._

“If she hadn’t brought drinks with her I would have kicked her to the curb straight away.”

"There's barely a road here, let alone curbs," said Nick, but the joke was half-hearted. He was preoccupied by with the image of Judy coming to apologize, and win hearts, if the spread around him was any indication. She had mentioned apologizing before, but to try and make nice to this extent? Was it just Judy’s personality that drove her to do such a thing? He definitely didn't see any other partners at the precinct sharing friends like this, hanging out with them after hours, making peace offerings. That Judy would go so far for him…

It made him recall the moment she had found him up there on the mountain. He had been more than a little out of it at the time. He hadn't even realized she was there until she started shaking him, hauling him out of the corner where he had wedged himself, unaware that by sheltering himself where he had, that he'd essentially made himself invisible to any passersby. If not for her insistence on checking every last nook and crevice…

He had woken to a blast of icy wind and Judy crying his name. Her wrecked expression when he had finally opened his eyes had been haunting his sleep ever since. And though he had tried to add the memory to his box of things never to inspect too closely, somehow that one kept managing to slip out.

Nick nodded to the card game. “Come on. I’ll give you a chance to win your money back.”

His friend glared at him. “How do you know I didn’t win?”

Nick just looked at him and laughed.

Finnick growled but rose to pull the card table over.

* * *

Nick dozed. He didn't mean to, but the walk up had tuckered him out more than he realized and the sun was so nice and warm…

He only woke when the sun had started to set and a chill had entered the air. He was extra sensitive to temperature these days, it seemed.

Finnick had put away his sunglasses and was playing a game on his phone. Without looking up, he said, "Your bunny called. I told her you were sleeping. She said she'd let you know the outcome after."

"Outcome of what?" asked Nick. But even as he asked it, he remembered. He cursed and scrambled out of the lounge chair. "What time is it?"

"Too late for whatever you're freaking out about probably," said Finnick. "She called over an hour ago." He pocketed his phone and rose. "If you're up than I'm heading out. I'll even be nice and wait until we're back in town to kick you out."

"Generous as always," said Nick.

But despite the small fox's words, Finnick didn't pull the van to a stop until they were outside the courthouse. When Nick looked over at him, his friend rubbed his nose and said, "I was heading this way anyway."

With a promise to meet up for lunch next week, Nick hopped out of the van and hurried over to the courthouse. He was jogging up the steps when the glass front doors swung open and a small herd of animals exited. Among them he spotted a certain pair of long gray ears, ringed by a familiar pack of foxes. The Corsacs and Judy lingered on the side of the steps, letting the crowds pass. The fact that they were all smiling seemed like a good sign.

Nick sidled up next to them. "So what's the verdict?" he asked. "Did they let you all off or is this a very amiable jail break?"

Robin snorted. Nick met Judy's eye, and her smile went stiff. She looked away from him. Still upset at him then. Nick felt a pang of disappointment, but powered through it by widening his grin and turning his question onto Marian, who met his gaze with a gentle smile.

"We were fortunate to be let off with community service only," she told him. "Thanks to you and Officer Hopps. Oh, and Mr. Caracal of course," she added as a tan cat in an impeccable business suit broke away from the herd to join them on the steps. "He was a wonderful lawyer, as always."

"Complete with wonderful fees," he said, handing Robin a slip of paper, which the fox took and tucked into his pocket.

"As always," said Robin, but he smiled as he said it and slapped the cat on the back. "Thank you again, my friend. We'll see you next month for Vixie's birthday party, yes?"

Mr. Caracal looked askance at Vixie, who smiled sweetly at him.

"The last time I came to a party, I was nearly impaled playing William Tell."

"More like William's hell," whispered Reynard with a snicker.

The cat glared at him. "Quite."

"But you made such a good William," said Robin, laughing. "What with your great posture and bearing. It's not easy to stand so stiffly for so long, you know. And it comes to you so naturally.”

The cat jabbed a claw at him. "See if I don't add that smart comment to your bill." He gave them all a curt nod. "Good day, gentleman. Ladies." He strode off.

"He'll come," said Craven. "He always does."

"I hope he brings dessert again," said Todd. "That pie he brought last time was the best. Do you think we could get him to sell us some for the restaurant?"

Vixie rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Because I'm sure Uncle Will would _love_ to take time away from his busy lawyer schedule to bake for you."

Todd growled at her.

"Manners, Todd," scolded Craven as Reynard slung an arm around the kit's neck and tugged him back, cutting off the growl with a strangled _ack_.

"You two are welcome to come as well," said Robin to Nick and Judy. Adding with a wink, "That is, if you think your reputations can take it."

"On the contrary, I think our reputations demand it," said Judy, and Robin beamed at her. Inside Nick, something hot and painful flared, spluttered, and died. He hardly had the right to it. Plus, Robin's paw was firmly entwined with Marian's and didn't look to have any desire in letting go.

The court doors swung open yet again and this time Benjamin Cottontail stepped out, along with his own lawyer and two dozen other bunnies—employees, fans, his legal team, and possibly even some friends.

He glanced over and saw them all looking at him. His chin went up, and without a word he turned away and strode off towards the street, leaving his entourage scurrying to catch up.

"We should invite him too," murmured Marian. "To the party."

"As if he would come," sneered Reynard. "I wouldn't want him there anyway."

"He vouched for us," Craven reminded him. "And made his head of security drop the charges against us. He didn't have to do that."

"It's called guilt. And he _should_ feel guilty. Lousy bugger. I heard he got let off on his own case. Figures."

A shiny black van pulled up. They watched as Cottontail and company packed themselves away and sped off.

Robin cleared his throat, redirecting everyone's attention. He looked at Marian. "I have a present for you. For all of you, actually."

With his free paw he pulled out a manilla envelope from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to her. Marian took it with a quizzical look, unlacing the string and folding back the top flap. She pulled out a sheaf of documents. Tears sprang to her eyes as she scanned over them. "Oh, Robin…"

Reynard and Craven leaned over her shoulder to read. Reynard's eyes bugged and Craven let out a gasp. "How?"

"Is this legit?" asked Reynard, his tone accusing.

Robin grinned. "It's the original. That's about as legit as it gets."

"What is it?" asked Judy.

"It's Carol's will," said Marian. She sniffled. "I thought for sure Marty had destroyed it."

"So did we," said Nick, eyes narrowing on the papers. "May I?"

She handed him the documents. He held them low so Judy could read them with him. Her small paw traced the words as she looked it over. "We found the clerk Marty paid off to destroy the duplicate record on file, but we couldn't find the original anywhere," she said. She looked over at Robin. "How did you find this?"

The fox shrugged. "When you work in my business long enough, you can find almost anything if you look hard enough."

"You mean your philanthropy business?" said Nick.

"Exactly. We're very good at rooting out things, we philanthropists."

"Uh-huh." Nick handed the papers back.

They parted ways after that, with Judy promising Marian that they would visit the restaurant as soon as she had things back up and running. Then it was just Judy and Nick on the steps, the sun slowly sinking behind the skyline.

Nick shivered.

Judy twitched her nose.

So Nick shivered again, more dramatically this time.

Judy sighed. "Can I drop you off somewhere?"

"I thought you'd never ask," said Nick. "Where did you park? East lot?" And he set off, ignoring the feeling of Judy's eyes on his back as he went.

He reached the cruiser first. He climbed into the passenger's side and focused on adjusting his seat to just the right angle as he waited for Judy to hop in behind the wheel. The moment the engine was on, she cranked up the heater.

"Trying to sweat me out?" teased Nick.

Not even a flicker of a smile. Judy's gaze was so far away, Nick doubted she had even heard him.

Nick sighed. “How long are you going to stay mad at me, Carrots?"

"Huh? What?" She did a double take and seemed to come back to herself. "Mad? I'm not mad at you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Then what is this mood you've been stuck in for the past few days? The Corsacs are safe—and now cleared. The criminal is going to jail for a very long time. And I got to keep all my digits with nary a bit of nerve damage. I don't know about you, but I could happily celebrate any one of those things. So what gives?"

Guilt flashed across her face. "It's not like that. I don't mean to be…" She gripped the steering wheel as if she could squeeze all of her frustration out of it. "It's just, I keep thinking about what happened and I… How did you _know_ you could trust Marty to keep his word? What made you take that risk?"

Nick shot her a smug look and patted his pocket, where the tracker was safely tucked, having been inspected and found to be in perfect working order. "I had the carrot, didn't I? I knew you'd come for me."

"You're lucky Marty let you keep that," said Judy. "And I don't believe you risked your life, and the foxes' lives, on such a fallible thing."

"Does it matter?" asked Nick. But then he glanced at his partner's haunted face and realized it did matter very much. To her.

He sighed and looked away. He owed her this truth. Even if he really, _really_ didn't want to give it.

"Because Marty loved her," he admitted. "That's why."

"What?"

"Marian," said Nick, dropping his head back against the seat. "Marty loved her. And even though he grew to hate her, I believed that a part of him deep down still wanted Robin, and then me, to save her and her brothers. That was why I did it."

Silence. He snuck a glance at Judy to find her staring at him, wide-eyed. The cruiser was starting to feel overly warm. He cleared his throat and looked away.

"You," Judy said finally, "are not allowed to tease me any more about being sentimental. You bet your life on a reason like that?"

"I know," said Nick. "It was stupid. And turns out I was wrong. Marty just wanted to frame all of us foxes as no-good runaways on top of killing us. Talk about overkill."

Judy made a thoughtful humming noise. "I don't know about that. I mean, he did keep the will. And it seems like a lot of extra work for Marty to have done everything that he did if it was only about getting revenge. If that were the case, why bother with having the Corsacs kidnapped at all? Why not just find someone to finish them off and be done with it?

"You would make a terrifying criminal, you know that?" said Nick. "Thank goodness you're dedicated to the right side of the law."

Finally, a real smile from Judy. But it vanished almost immediately as she whispered, "Still. You could have died, Nick."

He couldn't argue that. It was true.

"What would I have done if I had lost you? I can't stop thinking about it. All the regrets I told myself I wouldn't have…"

"Feeling bad about stealing all those last slices of pizza?" joked Nick, but his insides twisted at her words and his heart started to pound. "Well, I could see why you would be upset. It would be hard to find another partner as great as me. I do have the skills, the looks, the street smarts—"

"The humility?"

Nick was happy to let that retort land and move on, but then Judy looked at him, her expression utterly solemn, and he realized she wasn't about to just laugh this one off with him.

"And what if I didn't want another partner?" she asked him.

The heat was up too high. Nick felt like he was roasting. He reached over and snapped the closest vent shut. To Judy, he said, "Well it would certainly make solving cases harder. Having a partner is almost necessary at the ZPD."

"And outside the ZPD?"

What did that mean? Why did it matter? Nick couldn't stuff the questions away fast enough. Certain things a fox was better off not understanding. He didn't need to be clever about everything. Some stuff it was better not to know.

But even as he was throwing the lid down on that, he made the mistake of looking over and meeting Judy's eyes.

Like that, it was over. The box and all it's questions ceased to matter. Because there, staring him in the face, was the answer to it all. Just as it had been on the mountaintop, and in his dreams every night since. And there was no way for Nick to see it and not understand.

Judy loved him. _Him_. A dumb, lying, smart-mouthed fox who didn't even have the courage to face the truth until being forced nose to nose with it.

_Judy Hopps loves me._

The realization of it was both more incredible and more devastating than Nick had feared it would be.

If he opened his arms for Judy now, she would come. He knew it without doubt. And he could keep her there for as long as he wanted. Until her scent was deep in his fur and every animal who passed by her later would know she wasn't just a bunny and an officer, but a claimed mate. He could hold her paw the way Robin held Marian's. In public. At the precinct. In the dark late at night. A silly thing to want maybe, in the scheme of things. But Nick ached for it like no other dream he'd had in his life. And it was all right there. If he reached for her, Judy would meet him.

Nick's paws fisted. If only it were that simple. If only he could focus on what could be and not the memory of other things. Like shattered windows. Like graffiti'd doors and hospital visits, and reports filed that never seemed to go through.

Like baseball bats tucked under lounge chairs.

"Nick?"

He didn't know how he managed it, but somehow he forced a smile. It was wide and teasing and made him feel like he was choking. With a lightness he didn't feel, he said, "It's lucky I'm okay then, since you were so worried about it. I'm good, you're good, and we can continue being good partners, together…"

He couldn't bear to face her directly, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Judy shrink back.

"Partners?" she echoed, voice hitching, and Nick's gut clenched.

"Of course." The cruiser was too hot. The air felt like it was stuck in his lungs; he couldn't expel it. He snapped the heater off but it wasn't enough. He needed _out_.

He was already reaching for the door handle before an excuse came to him. "I just remembered. I left my sunglasses in Finnick's van when I went to see him earlier. I better go get them before he finds them and decides to pawn them off. You know how much I love those sunglasses."

"O-oh. Right," said Judy. "Do you at least want a ride to—"

Why wouldn't the door open? Nick clawed at the lock. "No need. He's just down the road. I'll make him give me a lift home, so you can head out."

"If you're sure..."

The lock finally popped and Nick grabbed for the handle. The door swung wide and Nick let it pull him out of the cruiser and onto the sidewalk. The chilly evening air swirled around him. It felt extra biting after the sweltering heat of the cruiser.

"I'll see you at work on Monday, okay, Carrots?"

He pushed the door shut without waiting for an answer and staggered away. Animals who saw him gave him wary looks and a wide berth. He didn't care. He didn't stop until he was safely hidden around the side of the courthouse.

He collapsed against the brick, his whole body shaking. He could feel his heart galloping against his ribcage. He didn't know what it would do first—burst or break.

When he had collected himself as much as he was able, he chanced a peek around the corner. Judy remained parked where he'd left her. He could see her silhouette through the passenger window, still and staring out the front windshield. Then she wiped her eyes. Just one swipe of her paw. Nick looked away.

_I'm so sorry, Carrots._

He realized it then: The one he had been conning this whole time. It hadn't been the ZPD or even the other animals of Zootopia. It had been himself.

He really was a dumb fox.

He pushed away from the wall. It was three blocks to the nearest subway station, and four blocks after that to get to his apartment. He needed to go before he was too tired to manage it.

Nick glanced around the corner one last time. The cruiser was gone.

He told himself everything would be fine. After all, they were friends. Partners. It was enough. The rest... they didn't need it. And Judy was a smart bunny. She would realized that herself too, in time. What they had was enough.It had to be.

For both their sakes.


End file.
